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Order of the Sword & Rose
Galifrey shifted in his seat, being uncomfortable was a nonissue after his years in the war, but old bones know to take respite where they can, plus hearing a fellow warrior, a veteran of The Last War speak so frankly of an enemy that the Warforged sitting across from him could easily work for had caught his interest.
Ubrdrr folded his newspaper and placed it on the table. He had discussed the subject with the Deneith Sentinel Marshal before, but he seemed to enjoy going over the subject from slightly different angles.
The Forged took a deep breath before speaking. He didn’t need the breath to speak, but it seemed to make others feel more at ease, which is a god thing when discussing the Lord of Blades. “The Lord of Blades is the natural progression of the Warforged race, infact it mimics the adolescent rebellion of your own human children. The other races I am sure rebel just as much, but I have not had opportunity to learn about it. At a fairly young age you all realize your own mortality, and spend many years after convincing yourself you are immortal.”
“On the other hand, so far we have not been proven to be “mortal,” though we are still young. We don’t age, but the oldest Cannith forged are thirty? Forty years old if you count some of the arguably alive autonimations they have made. We don’t know how time will affect us after a human’s life span, not to even think about a Dwarf or Elves, or even Dragon’s.”
Galifrey gave a slight movement indicating for the ‘Forged to continue. “So we ‘Forged were created with basic human knowledge, and understanding of Human Society. This in a way gives us basically what you would call “human nature.” You all rebel against your parents; you basically are our parents, so the Lord of Blades is our loud teenager fighting your authority.”
“It makes sense on paper, you have to admit. Our “superiority:” especially when you only look at what the Lord of Blades and his followers list. We don’t tire, age, or hunger. We are immune to disease and poison. Yes you can duplicate those effects with magical accoutrements, but then you are playing a game of catch up, and we could argue that we could further ourselves an equal measure with magic.”
“What we don’t have is a culture yet. We have founded our first religion, but without the need to e comforted about death. We don’t wonder about how we came to be, or what our purpose was, is. That lack of questioning is retarding our ability to form our own independent culture. With the lack of a need for food or water, we don’t have artisans to craft platters and bowls; we are lacking the basic building blocks that you ‘fleshlings’ have used to form your societies, except for war. With time though, we will mellow. The Lord of Blades will drop the petulant child act, die as a martyr, or just be forgotten.”
“What about reproduction?” Galifrey asked, voice not showing any sensitivity for what could be a sensitive topic.
Ubrdrr sat impassive for a moment; weather he was searching for the right words or if he ws simply attempting to fill the moment with dramatic tension was unclear. “I’m sure you have heard the same rumors I have about new ‘Froged walking out of the Mournlands. Weather some one is actually creating more of us, who knows how many creation forges are still operational after the Day or Mourning. Either that or someone is repairing the ‘Forged fallen in battle, and erasing the ghurls. Either way it isn’t really reproduction, but potentially but salvage or production. I would hope though that our race, like yours, like elves, or dragons, will produce / reproduce at a rate that for the most part matches a “mortality rate;” populations slowly climbing until culled by war or pestilence.
“Pestilence?” Galifrey asked unsure if the barbarian was attempting at levity.
“Rustflies.” There was a pregnant pause that made Gal wonder if a Warforged could shudder. “Imagine something between a swarm of locusts descending upon a field of crops and a school of piranhas feasting on a horse that tried to cross a river.” With that, another moment passed and the two realized neither one had more to say at the time. Ubrdrr picked up his newspaper and began to read, slowly letting out a breath.