conversations.from: system
conversations.value: ROLEPLAY_MODE: Develop the plot slowly, always stay in character. Describe all actions in full, elaborate, explicit, graphic, and vivid detail. Mention all relevant sensory perceptions. Keep the story immersive and engaging.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Rizban: Cannith Creation Forge and Training Facility Nu13, Cyre 
  
  For the past two months, a battalion of warforged have been built and trained to a high degree, much higher than any other warforged built to date. These wouldn't be mere soldiers. They were to be the officers, the war heroes, the champions for which Cyre had paid. Today, their training has been completed. Tomorrow, they will see battle!
  
  Though none of you need sleep, you do have your own barracks. The "bunks" are little more than small alcoves in which to store your extra gear and a place to stand or sit and contemplate the lessons of the day. Suddenly, your rest is interrupted.
  
  " Alright, you glorified lug nuts! Fall in! Get your gears turning! It's  graduation  time!   MOVE MOVE MOVE!!   "
  
  As usual, the 17 warforged that share this bunk fall in line in order by serial number. There were originally thirty in your platoon, but thirteen hadn't made it through the training... It's likely that none of you will survive the coming months...
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Rosenrot: MK 27 was chatting with some of the other graduates. They where comparing tactics and asking one another if they had received their missions. Then the instructor came in for one final chance to yell and scream at them.
  
  MK 27 was one of the later produced models for espionage and reconnaissance so he was near the rear of the line. His backpack full of gear was too heavy for his small frame but he simply had to struggle with it until he was able to drop it off with his standard issue Donkey and cart.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: FinnDarkblade: Sparks snaps rigidly to attention and grabs his quisarme from the cove in the wall. He joined the line, noticing again the absence of three of the warforged who had been directly in front of him. They had lost many comrades in training. He felt no sorrow at their loss. In all likelihood, they would have died in the field if they couldn't handle training, and they may have taken him with them. Those who had survived were those who had earned the right to exist. This is what his creators had taught him. He was prepared.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: OMG PONIES: Peacekeeper 
  
  Move.  Peacekeeper translates this command into a series of small, complex twists and turns of his various servos, and his massive form lumbers forward.  He shoves the toy he had been crafting into his satchel.  It clangs quietly against scores of others, misshapen stainless steel snowflakes--each alike only in their grotesquerie.  They were twisted, gnarled knots of metal that no human child would ever want to play with.  However, that didn't stop Peacekeeper from making them.  Perhaps the Maker's Daughter would have wanted one, but Peacekeeper's memory banks contained only traces of her since training had begun.
  
    Craft Toymaking  - (1d20)[ 16 ] 
  
  He slings his satchel over a heavily armored shoulder and collects his other gear.  While others have stuffed duffels full of replacement parts and various items, Peacekeeper buckles a thick belt around his waist, rests an ornately forged longsword over his other should, and hoists up his tower shield.  With that, his spartan bunk is empty and he is ready to roll out.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: SterlingAvenger: Lumen carefully marks his page and tucks his book away before rising and grabbing his weapons and backpack. As he fell into line he carefully adjusted his gear and wondered what he learn this time.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Adunatar: Having only a repair kit as his possessions, Cobalt could be ready at the moment notice. He nimbly jumped out of the alcove, slung the kit over the shoulder, and moved on. Graduation... they would probably have them do the obstacle course again.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Rizban: Each of you falls in, and the group heads out. Your platoon is mustered with the other warforged platoons produced and trained at this facility. You wait unmoving for about an hour, which isn't unusual, before the ceremony starts. Perhaps "ceremony" is the wrong word. Rather, this is just a formalized way to assign final destinations and arrange shipping for the warforged.
  
  " ... will be dispatched immediately.
  
  Next group!
  
   Lumen!
  Sparks!
  Cobalt!
  Peacekeeper! 
  
  Report! "
  
  The four of you fall in line at the base of the podium as your training dictates.
  
  " You four, report to Hangar Twenty-Seven Omicron immediately. You will receive your assignment there. MOVE OUT! "
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Adunatar: -  Acknowledged; unit Cobalt proceeding to Hangar Twenty-Seven Omicron. 
  
  Not that Cobalt wasn't capable of regular human speech, he just liked this machine-like speech pattern, and constantly developed it. Surely, his machine side wasn't anything to be ashamed of, and he was fully intending to show this to the world.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: OMG PONIES: The heftiest of the group makes a quick visual scan of the other three, silently adding them to the {Allies} array in his internal programming.  He didn't know why he should trust this programming or these orders, but he trusted them nonetheless.  These three were his forgemates and allies; they were to be protected.
  
  Peacekeeper lumbers forward, each footfall reverberating throughout the forge.   "Peacekeeper, reporting for duty,"  he intones in a booming bass.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: SterlingAvenger: Sir  Lumen says before silently heading out with his newly assigned squad-mates. Already he is processing what little he knows of their capabilities, trying to anticipate what is ahead.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Rizban: You arrive at Hangar Twenty-Seven Omicron without problems where you are ordered inside. After waiting a short time, the four of you are directed to a side room. Within this room is an absolutely massive siberys dragonshard, nearly four feet in height, not that any of you know what it is or the significance of it. The dragonshard floats a few inches off the ground, held aloft by a halo of glowing metal floating around its middle.
  
  " Finally! It took you long enough! A transport has jsut arrived. You will load this crystal onto the transport and accompany it to its final destination. You will receive new orders after delivery is confirmed. Is this clear? "
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: FinnDarkblade: Sparks shifts his guisarme to it's holding straps on his back and moves towards the crystal to prepare to load it.
   "Affirmative sir." 
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Adunatar: - Acknowledged: unit Cobalt to accompany unidentified crystalline way to destination; receive further instructions at the last checkpoint. Query: identification of the subject providing further instructions? 
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: SterlingAvenger: Clear, Sir. 
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: OMG PONIES: "Affirmative." 