<table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td>(http://imageftw.com/uploads/20091029/Female_Warforged.jpg) (http://imageftw.com/uploads/20091029/Female_Warforged.jpg)</td><td> <strong>Sword</strong><br/><br/><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">"You must," she hesitates to inwardly retract and replace the word she intends, "care deeply for him."  She smiles at that, but noncommittally.</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div>"...He is my master, I must serve and protect him."  It comes a bit hesitantly.  Her duty was always obvious, there was no other option.  Now that she's had to act independently, making her own decisions, even her own plans, as simple as they may be, her own purpose is becoming fuzzier.  Often she's wondered for what purpose do other sentients live?  Some serve a god or master, like Sword, but many others work, live, and die according to their guideless whims.<br/><br/><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">"I don't suppose anyone else would like to share things about the lands of their birth or ones they have traveled?"</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div>Sword was once hired by an adventuring party for some front-line assistance, and noted they would often share history and stories around their campfire.  They seemed much closer than other mercenary groups she traveled with.  Only one of them died in their adventures, and he was greatly mourned by the rest.  Sword decided that this bond was a tactically sound strategy for ensuring group cohesion and survival.<br/><br/>Suddenly volunteering, she began her own story.  "I was created six years ago from one of the forges.  I do not know the purpose of my unique mold, but I was immediately sold to my master and trained to be a part of his household.  His palace was in a desert kingdom, I do not know the name; I was not educated in the particulars of politics or geography.  Many times men would come to discuss matters with him, and I would guard over them.  My master would always tell me to forget what I heard, but it was unnecessary, I did not understand them.<br/><br/>"When the palace was overrun by the horde, I left to find him, traveling through the desert to grasslands, forest, mountains, and now to this land.  I labored and fought to pay for travel and repairs, but did not learn much of the lands I wandered through."<br/><br/>As the Archon glided nearby, Sword did her best not to stare; sentients didn't like that, and Pelligri was very adamant about her intelligent existence.  Strangely taking some initiative however, she spoke up to her, "I apologize again.  I did not know you were alive."  Not awkward at <em>all</em>.  "...What are you?" she had to ask, unable to phrase herself tactfully.<br/><br/><br/>Listening to Fallon's story, Sword doesn't quite get it, but understands that these things are important to living beings, in a strange, immaterial, but vital way.  It was that undefinable Vitality that drove them.  "Sune..." she muttered, putting it away to ponder.<br/><br/><br/><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">"I had heard that he had been subjugated and kept imprisoned in a kingdom to the east, but that was speculation on the behalf of an unreliable source."</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div>Jerking out of her reverie, Sword walks closer to the wagon.  "What is this kingdom?  How far?  Where did you learn this?"  She was never a good interrogator; whenever she had tried to gather some information or even directions, people would ignore her or stammer something half-useless.<br/><br/>She was interrupted, however, by the smoke ahead and scrambling to readiness.  Unbinding her falchion, Sword let go of the horse's reigns and jogged ahead to the front of the group.</td></tr></tbody></table>