Scholarly Warforged Barbarian


Book is a brutish looking warforged warrior that wanders the land on a never ending quest for knowledge. Despite his intimidating appearance, Book’s manerisms could not be further from his looks. Book is polite, punctual, and scholarly. He strives to further expand his mind by experiencing and reading about the world around him. Book can always be found in a library or a tavern diving deep into a tome.

In combat, however, Book becomes something of a different nature. Ever so often, book will lapse into a state of pure rage and will lose control of his actions. Witnessing book in this state can be troubling even for the strongest of mind, for the monstrosity that Book becomes is unnatural. He will slaughter, maim, or destroy anything in his path.

Book’s goal in life is to attend an arcane college of some sort so that he may learn magic. Book is entranced by the use of magic, but through his own study has been unable to harness it. He may find his dreams in the city of Kharth. However, book understands that being a fabricated construct with an immortal body and soul gives him plenty of time, and for now, travels and experiences life.

- Book is only 3 years old
- Book always carries with him a field guide about plants. The first book he ever read.
- Book is wary of horses.
- Book has never seen a dragon, but very much wants to.
- Book loves birds.
- Book enjoys plays, music, and dance.
-Book tries to cover his appearance with a large cloak


I cannot explain my creation well, for I just was. Though I cannot sleep, the best way to describe it, is how mortals describe the experience of waking every morning from the nothingness of sleep. Except, I have no memories of the previous night, but fully comprehensive and capable the very second I saw the world. My first sight, my master standing in front of me. My first thought, the undeniable urge to do his bidding. I may have been comprehensive, but my mind was not my own.

I slaved for months under my master. I did not fight him. I had no urge. I was neither content nor suffering under his influence. I was a tool. I would have taken pride in my master had he been fair, but he was not. I would later learn that my master delved with dark arts and delt with a cult unknown to me. He would perform dark rituals meant to make the world suffer. He would steal innocents from villages and perform experiments on them. And if the villagers came mobbing at his tower of solitude, I would cut them down. He would send me to the villages that stood up to him and have me slaughter every last citizen. My master designed me to be the ultimate killing machine, stronger than any man, and most violent. I would tear heads off of men with my bare hands, leave them twisted and broken in ways that would make even a cruel drow cringe. I was not a force to be reckoned with.
I do not know how I escaped my master’s influence, only that over time I developed personal choice, free thought, and emotion. I finally broke my master’s grasp one night when I became a slave to no one but myself. He had me again attack a village while he watched in laughter. It was only after stabbing the last child through the skull that snapped my mind out of his grasp. Before I knew what was happening, I had sprinted towards my master and impaled him on my sword. I watched him slide down the blade gasping and sputtering as I lifted the blade into the air, the last of his life draining out of his limp body. I felt pride in his death.

I had known no life but of slavery and bloodshed. I did not know what to do or where to go. I ended up going back to my master’s tower where I stood motionless for several days dwelling on the meaning of my short existence thus far. Where should I go? What should I do?

Finally, one day I moved. I started going through my master’s belongings searching for meaning of my existance. I picked up one of my master’s old tomes and discovered that I could read. I realize that is an odd thing to say, but it is true. I did not know I could read until I could. I read that entire book that day. It was a book about the common medical uses of various plants. I was fascinated. It described plants as if they were living mortals. I wanted to know more. So I read more. Day after day I read book after book and dove into their pools of knowledge. I read every day non-stop about things I never knew before. It was invigorating. But there came a day I ran out of books. I knew much at this point, but I felt there was still more to know out there. It made me realize that I would have to leave my master’s tower, my tower, if I wanted to seek the knowledge of things.

I set out with a sword on my back, a shield by my side, and a cloak around my body. It was hard at first. I scared people. Cloaked in dark fabric with a large brutish frame of metal and wood, I must have looked every bit the monster I was. But over time, things got better. I would spend the coming years traveling the world meeting new people, discovering new places, falling in love and most of all, unlocking the knowledge of all the world. I have no name, but people over the years would end up giving me the name, “Book.” Fitting.

I am Book, and this is my story.


Askalon digogim Kazmohdim