Tempest's Binder

  • A large binder in which the warforged Tempest has written about his existance, but also drawn people, things and schematics of all sorts but mostly about smithing.

    Freed from the factory, and now freed from the gangster's arenas... Now what? I will earn an existance, a life, of quality through my might and skills with the axe.

    A crude drawing of the construct's face and ghulra is left with the first entry in the binder...


    I am Tempest the Warforged. Tempest the Axe!

  • Some of the tools I salvaged, or... stolen? A reminder of my time spent in the factory as a prisoner or slave. The gangsters on the other hand did not care one bit about creating, they only cared about sending me to the fights on which they could bet. Their loss, and more importantly, mine. My skills did not improve, but I always thought about it, I want to create and improve, weapons mostly, maybe other things. I don't know... Now that I have found a master willing to teach, albeit a little too zealous for my taste, I will focus on learning my craft.

    An other drawing is left in the binder, this one showing a small variety of smithing tools laid down on a dirty carpet

    I am Tempest the Warforged. Tempest the Apprentice!

  • Karl has been an helpful master so far. He has given me precious counsels and provided me with many designs, which I have studied in length. They give me ideas, to draw my own weapons. The doctor-mage Ethol appears promising too. With the two of them, I can expect to become a revolutionary weapon smith maybe? It's not that I want fame, although I wouldn't dislike it!

    While Sir Steel was forging a blade, I drew this broad sword here. The script is dwarvish and means ''Deity Killer''. A diagram and name fitting for that Baatorian ingot perhaps...


  • This time, it is the drawing of an iron-bound book, on a wood surface, somewhere dark with a strange title that Tempest has left in his binder with only a few descriptive words beneath it

    Where ever I go, I hear about these gods. If they've forsaken me, so did I. I have no interest in that particular one either, although the circumstances are most curious. Is there a hidden message between the pages, or behind that odd discovery?

  • This time, a drawing of a scepter to the glory of Jergal, with a hidden ritual dagger at its base... it is colored bone and bronze


    The companions of the Pallid Mask oppose us. They view the forgebrothers as abberants. I think of them as the worst of the worst, their god has the most idiotic dogma, of them all perhaps! I wanted to offer them this diagram, this scepter, so that they could preach about how existance is ephemeral and futile and finaly stab themselves in the heart and die.

    The Jergalite Scepter of Suicide. I haven't even made it, and their numbers have dwindled significantly. A coincidence or do my thoughts have magical powers? Ha Ha Ha... Really, Ha! I laugh at their misfortune.

  • A diagram of an other sword is added to the binder. This one is a bastard-bastard sword, for it is made out of two very distinct metals known to be usable to channel positive energy.


    Perhaps this will be the first weapon I make to be remembered in history, should they succeed. Even though it might be destroyed and used in some form of divine magic, which is a serious shame...

  • A small drawing of a moustachioed man with glowing, hopeful eyes in a dark room or alley...

    Between Ibrahim, the weird named warforged from a foreign land who views our existance as tragic and wish to become human, and the human wizard who is extremely good with the screwdriver despite having some loose screws in the head himself, here I stand. I regret not being able to feel the pleasures of the flesh or being able to get drunk and roll under a table with the others... Or experiment dreams. But all these things have their drawbacks and leads people to their doom, more often than not. I don't need this, I've got my own things, I will remain warforged, or maybe improve even...