1 A Forged Start

I had always dreamed of creating an eternal guardian to keep the Sword Coast safe. I got that wish within my grasp eighty years ago when a ship, the size of a small fishing vessel, crash-landed from the sky. A dying Githyanki and a Gnome couple aboard it were doing everything they could to preserve a dying construct. A construct they called their son and a construct that was sentient enough to become its own race, a Warforged. A race of sentient constructs who came to be through fighting a war in place of flesh and blood soldiers when there was no one willing to risk their lives for the bloodiest conflicts.

I couldn't understand why they'd want it to live more than themselves, however. Then I understood as we talked while they worked through the pain and as their bodies shut down. This Warforged was literally their kin, they had used body parts hacked or blown off their bodies during war, after having them regrown countless times, to create the more synthetic parts of this Warforged. Thus making him, in a way, their biological son in their eyes.

By the time the Gnome had died, the Githyanki was finishing up even as she coughed up blood. She was determined to see the sentient construct live, and so she poured her race's stubborn pride into doing so. That I was left in awe as she finished up what was essentially a revivify, mending, greater restoration, and extreme heal spell wrapped up in one complex spell matrix around a crystallized brain with a crystallized heart and Hell's Engine acting as the back-ups.

I also felt a pang of sadness when the other worldly, and possibly dimensional, woman hugged the Warforged with a content smile. Dying like that, happy to have saved what she considered a son. I'm not the strongest of my race as a Deep Gnome, but I did my best to bury the two. Extracting the still comatose sentient construct was easy thanks to some golems, along with the magically encrypted sealed journal of blueprints the couple had, as it always found its way back to the Warforged.

Meaning the item was enchanted and essential as a blueprint archive for their own in the future. However, I suspected that it also held their own blueprints for their son to use or improve upon. Which would turn out to be correct many years later after he was once more operational and his body remodeled with adamantine using the Adamantine Forge. As the Warforged used the forge to upgrade his limbs, alter systems, and add functions while crafting his own weapons. Weapons, which he called Arcane Firearms and Mundane Firearms, along with specialized swords that would meld into his body.

Those weapons were unruly and loud, as if someone had cast a more subdued but still loud Thunderclap. Those same weapons would help defend the Sword Coast during an invasion. Sadly, I will not get to see the rest of their journey, a Sharr Dark Justiciar had stabbed me through the heart, the Warforged at my side with smaller firearms called revolvers, mundane and arcane versions, smoking and rapidly reloading as he stood vigil over my dying form covered in the blood of his enemies. A trail of Eldritch Blast following the projectiles fired as invasion forces dropped all around us.

I'm glad… I gave the Sword Coast a protector, and through him my legacy shall continue…. Not only that, but I accomplished my mission in life. Smiling, I slowly closed my eyes as all the sounds died out slowly with ever-growing silence.

"I'm proud of you, Forty-seven, I'll miss you…"

//\\ 245 years later, Sword Coast year 1247, Emerald Grove \\//

"To anyone who finds this journal, I am First Druid Jalsu of the Emerald Grove near Baldurs Gate. I write this for those who may not realize how dedicated one member is to protecting the grove and its animals. For they are one member we should not ostracize for what they are, as they are but a sliver of flesh and blood, yet they are like a Druid and Ranger dedicated to preserving the world's balance.

While they are something called a Warforged and Artificer, they take Druidism and Ranger matters seriously. They may become metallic creatures when Wild Shaping, but they are a part of the order of things and shouldn't be judged. The very spirits of nature adore him, animals and insects know he shall not hurt them unless provoked instinctively, as if he was guided by nature itself. It's simply marvelous, he also uses his Artificer talents to create defenses and maintain the groves' defenses.

If you wonder then why I write this, it is because I hear my time calling, nature beckoning me to its embrace eternally as war looms over us. Our stalwart guardian puts himself in direct contest with Drow forces, who seek to start a Shadow Druid cult. Many times he is torn asunder with his biological parts, many times he prevails, many times he comes back dead before resurrecting amidst enemy forces. His Hell's Engine from Avernus burning brightly, his body a flame as he rages like a Barbarian with his weapons empowered by his flames.

I am glad to have the famed Avernus 'Paladin' watching over us. Now I must go, my calling grows louder and the Drow Commander avails themselves to our eyes for once.

I shall protect this grove AT ALL COST.

~~~~~

If you are reading this, it has been two years since the Shadow Emerald War with the Shadow Druids. Master Jalsu has passed on, becoming one with nature once more as he slew the Drow Commander, Asdumi. I'm the newly appointed First Druid Nettler, I shall try to lead my fellow Druids well, like Master Jalsu would want of me. However, the grove's guardian Warforged had left to explore the Under Dark on his year-long pilgrimage every ten years, a year ago. So we expect him to show up once more within the next week.

However, as he left last year he had Avernus's Cambians on his heels, their Hellhounds joining the Warforged in running them ragged. I find it amusing that the sentient construct only has to say freedom to convince Avernus's Hell Beasts to help him. It's as if he is truly one with nature for such a single word to convey so much to them. It didn't help them that the Warforged were aided by an always active Speak with Animals invocation from a Great Old One called Yhidra, The Witch.

~~~~~~

Our guardian returns on the same day Asmodeus will be here for a forced pact with all of us. We must activate the Rite of Thorns! Forgive us, our guardian, as we send you to battle the most vile Fiend to exist. Forgive us….

~~~~~~

//\\ Asmodeus POV, DR 12479 \\//

Chuckling, I met eyes with an adamantine construct with the heaviest Druidic Ranger armor I've ever seen. This construct was sentient and not from this world, the world their race hailed from, being in a place unreachable by normal means. Yet here a Warforged stands before me, a king of Avernus's in this backwater world.

Their armor that should be interfering with most spells instead aided their spells. It was infuriating as the machine seemed to be able to tap into Druidic, Ranger, Trickster, Paladin, and Warlock spells that frankly hurt more than they should. Grunting as a pure radiant energy Eldritch Blast hit my body, it was a contradiction unto the spell itself, ripping a hole straight through my stomach. I couldn't help but consistently use Hellish Rebuke on the construct, hoping to turn them into slag.

However, just now they did something, the strange nonthreatening weapon they had aimed at me as we had fought with a variety of spells and Hell Fire, was put away. This had confused me before the burning construct had managed to BURN me. Even with my resistance, it managed to burn me with its fist as its body was consumed in flames. It was grating yet simply marvelous that such a single-minded creature created by mortals could do so.

What wasn't marvelous through this all, however, was the first sized hole in my stomach that burned with radiant energy. Growling, I attempted to Thunder Wave the construct and was promptly pushed onto my back. The construct wasted no time in assaulting my prone figure with pure, unadulterated RAGE. Its existence just got more entertaining with each passing second, as its race usually isn't this expressive. However, something must give…

"I've had fun playing with you, little toy, but this is over. Now BEGONE!"

Casting Banishment, I watched as the unrelenting construct resisted, striking me in the face and grabbing one of my horns. I could feel its smoldering grip tightening around my horn before I let out a guttural scream. The construct ripping my horn in half before impaling it into my throat as my spell finally banished them temporarily.

I ripped my broken horn free of my throat, realizing the folly that's now taking place. I was in a horrid state, and continuing my plan as I am now would end horribly for me. However, I was simply delighted to have met such a toy! Yet, they have done a number on my person that I must still ruefully leave with no Shadow Druids added to my army. Alas, for the mortal, there's ALWAYS next time, now to depart before that adamantine construct returns early.

As I left the mortal realm, I witnessed a cooling metallic arm shatter through the magic connection of Banishment. A weapon aimed at me before a thunderous sound rang out, an object striking me through the right lung. Leaving the realm as the construct ripped themselves free of my spell early due to its body's properties. I couldn't help but cackling and gurgling on my own blood as I bid the Warforged farewell.

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(AN: if you're curious then here's the class and level list Artificer 60 (All Subclasses Mastered), Rogue 12 (Arcane Trickster, Phantom Knife), Druid 6 (Circle of spores, Circle of Moon), Ranger 8 (Beasts Master, Gloom Stalker), Warlock 8 (Pact of the Old One), and Paladin 14 (Oath of Vengeance, Service to Amaterasu (Creation and Destruction), Hestia (Fire and Family), and Set (Death and Life)). The levels are how much experience and knowledge someone has in those classes, or simply just their innate talent for the class. And some may say those levels don't make sense, this is essentially the real world where if you've got nothing but time you could branch out to essentially every class and learn from them or even master them.)

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//\\ Forty-seven POV \\//

Waking up from my slumber once more as I felt the world stir with uncertainty. I stood up slowly and carefully, letting the plant life growing on my frame and the animals who nested on me to leave my body. To my left, a Giant Wolf construct slowly reactivated as well, with a giant Displacer Beasts construct to my right. With a slow but steady thrumming of three Hell's Engines, we rose and became fully functional once more.

Three Warforged, three different appearances, one goal, keep the Sword Coast alive. Looking towards Sif, the Giant Wolf construct, I waved a hand forwards, and she let out a low reverberating howl as flames licked at her teeth from within her mouth. Moving forward slowly at first, she eventually took normal strides with the confidence of a hunter.

Signaling Silf, the Displacer Beast construct, he chuffed and slowly but methodically stalked after his huntress. Myself followed shortly afterward as we slowly emerged from a hidden vault of the Emerald Grove. Even though I wander everywhere, I always find myself back in this grove for periods of time. However, I can feel it in my circuits and magic, this time I may not return from where I must go.

As we emerged from the vault, we met a surprised group of druids. One of which I knew instantly was the First Druid, for I last saw him as but a child, no less than six.

"Halsin, we are here to hunt and preserve the balance."

His aged face slowly morphed into a smile as Sif and Silf eyed a certain Druid. A young woman with dark orangish brown hair. A dissenter in the making, but what kind we shall see soon enough.

"Forty-seven, Sif, Silf it's been a little over thirty years since you three were awake. I'm glad you are, however, I imagine you're talking about the recent rise in more malevolent forces."

"Master Halsin, what are those THINGS? And how do you know them? How do you know they are not a threat to the grove?"

The dissenter in the making spoke up, and I just chuckled slowly, making the woman tense. Oh, how good it must be to be young and ignorant of the world around you. Halsin seemed to agree, as he wore an amused and serious smile.

"Senior Druid Kagha, I know these three aren't a threat to the grove, especially Forty-seven. For a long time now, in journals passed down by the First Druids, Forty-seven has been protecting the Sword Coast and the Emerald Grove for over three hundred years. Sif and Silf have been with him only for a hundred fifty of those years. After they reportedly had willingly volunteered for a conversion of flesh and blood to steel and organic matter to stay beside Forty-seven. As for what they are, they are Warforged, not mindless objects Kagha, and you will do well to remember that."

That last line was said dangerously low and with a promise that the Druids around Halsin took a step back in fright. After a bit of speaking with young Halsin me and my companions decided on our goal and where we must bring back order first.

"Silf, Sif, we march onto the Shadow Lands. As we stand a chance at surviving longer than most, we must venture forth and revive the lands corrupted by the Shadow Blight. If we are to halt any spreading of the shadows, then that is where we must go first and focus on."

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