…He was an Envoy. And a prototype Envoy at that. The Original, actually. Cannith never made another like him. It explained quite a bit about him too, why he was so driven to tasks that did not involve killing, but rather, involved creating – of course… creating tools that could be used to aid in killing… No matter.
He was the Original Envoy. Every unique Warforged was modeled after him. That was… A lot to take in. And so long ago… It’s no wonder he had issues remembering so far back. It also explained why he was immune to certain overrides given to him by other Artificers and tinkerers. He flat out did not have the cookie-cutter design model that the Warforged that came after him had.
He had been built for artiface. Built to be augmented. Built to stand the tests of time in ways other warforged had not. It all came flooding back. He was meant to be altered. He was built at his core to do it. He was literally a cut above the rest, with an intense understanding of creation, life, and how things “ticked.”
So much made sense now, it explained why he had tinkerer and smith’s tools built into his fingers and arms. It explained why he had such an adept knowledge of languages. He knew 5. He was a living encyclopedia, a walking blueprints set. The Primus of Eberron, meant to oversee the creation of other warforged, of hulking titans and small clockwork beasts…
With this memory now fresh in his mind, his past flooding back to him – Hephaestas touched the sigil stone on his face; a hammer over an anvil. Warm to the touch. He knew exactly what he had to do next.
He went to go find his workshop. The Warforged Heartstones he had gotten in Stormreach harbor were clutched in his hand.
He needed to get to his forge.