Godforged

The primary task for a Godforged assemblage is to discern the nature of the Becoming God, and to contribute to its embodiment. In this, each leader has its own conviction, and the others, built to serve, follow without question. The leader chooses its own title, which is usually a variant on or synonym for “Architect” or “Builder,” recognizing its role in the progress of construction. A large group might contain one or two subordinate leaders (often called “Planners”) who direct the activities of the assemblage according to the Architect’s vision.

Above all, the leaders of Godforged assemblages guide their followers in understanding their god and in actively creating its earthly container. Repetition is natural to warforged life and instruction, so the life of a cult beats to the rhythm of the leader’s chant, much like a marching cadence. This liturgy tells of the Becoming God and the origins of warforged souls, of the future that is to come, and of the duty of every follower to its god. The group literally marches in beat, scouring the ruins of the Mournland for materials and relics suited to the great project.

Assemblage Architects are responsible for collecting and recording the knowledge of the group. They note the place from which god-pieces come, and the nature of each. When a member shares an insight with the group, this enters the records as well. Landmarks, encounters with other groups, and significant events all go into the plan (as the record is called). Architects continually update the plan, especially during periods of inactivity, and keep the record within a special container fastened to (or incorporated into) their own body. Older records are never destroyed but are maintained as an archive to check against the current plan. Mundane ink and paper usually suffice, but the more fanatical Architects might go so far as to engrave their plans on sheets of thin metal.

The Godforged’s existence is to quest. They search for the Firstforge, the damaged Cyran creation forge, which some claim is operated by the Lord of Blades. They also quest for materials that will some day help realize the body of the Becoming God.

The Godforged see the Lord of Blades not as a divine being in himself but as a true prophet of the Becoming God. If he indeed controls the Firstforge, he is the only one of their kind to build bodies that hold living souls. Moreover, a soul attached by this prophet cannot help but have a firmer bond to its body. Many argue that to find the Lord of Blades is to find the way to the Becoming God. Still, none know how to locate the warforged Lord, nor he they, although he would welcome such followers.

The Godforged movement is not evangelical: Each member hears the call within itself and seeks the truth.

Warforged are practical folk; being reverent does not require acts of empty ritual. The Godforged know that their god awaits its body, and they are confident in their role in bringing about the ultimate merger. Thus, their rituals have a purpose and an outcome.

The Godforged do not ask for their deity’s intercession. After all, it has already granted them souls. Rather, they believe they owe the same to their god. Their prayers take the form of promises: “I vow to open your eyes that you may look on your creation.” Sometimes a prayer is an offer of thanks, especially at times when the warforged believes he has added to the soul: “What you bestowed on me I have now augmented, thanks be to your vision.”

The first ritual any Godforged undertakes is that of recognizing that it has a soul, which leads it to the Becoming God. The triggering event could be almost anything: an emotional response to an artistic creation or a beautiful landscape, the death of a comrade and thoughts of afterlife, an intellectual challenge posed to it directly, and so forth. Whatever the form, this event leads the warforged to consider for the first time something bigger and more enduring than its own body. Different warforged respond in varying ways. Some enter an extended period of “shutdown,” in which they appear inactive but are in fact engaged in intense thought with no physical activity. Others add a ritual activity to each other action they take, such as a repeated phrase (“in the name of the Becoming”) or a flourish after a combat move or more mundane activity.

One uniquely Godforged rite that is followed by all members of an assembly is to engrave, stamp, attach, or otherwise permanently affix the Mark of the Becoming to their bodies. The warforged are aware of the dragonmarks that set apart certain members of the humanoid races, and some have heard of the draconic Prophecy that they embody. The Godforged know that they fulfill a destiny, so marking themselves in the same way seems completely logical. An assemblage’s Architect chooses the precise form of the mark, but all such marks share the central feature of an opening construct eye.

The cult of the Becoming God does not hold festivals in the usual sense, but the heart of the religion is its ongoing ritual. It is the duty of each Godforged to bring a piece of the god’s body to add to its construction. A typical group travels for several hours a day, then its members search the rubble, taking shifts to avoid mental fatigue. A warforged who has excavated a suitable component presents it to the assemblage’s leader for examination and approval. If the Architect finds it good, that follower carries the piece of its god, attached firmly to its own body, for the remainder of its existence or until it finds the Firstforge, whichever comes first. Should a Godforged fall while on the quest, its piece of the sacred body is taken up by the Architect (along with those of all the others lost along the way). Some of the older leaders carry so much material that they have a bizarre, overmechanized appearance.

Those not actively searching engage in contemplation of their god, often absent-mindedly fashioning doll-like objects as they do so. Adventurers returning from the Mournland have brought back specimens of this warforged art, which has a ready market among collectors in Breland. The elders of certain churches have also acquired some of these figurines and are studying their meaning with some concern; the Scions of the Forge are especially interested in them, for obvious reasons.

Because there are so many small assemblages, each following its own interpretation of the divine quest, it would be impossible for the cult to maintain uniform worship without the exchange of information. When the Godforged first began to wander in the wastes, they formed assemblages from random meetings, and they encountered other such groups by happenstance. Whenever groups met, they would discuss the great task and their own activities in its furtherance. They then separated, each incorporating portions of the other’s ritual into its own. As more assemblages formed and came into contact, the awareness of a larger movement spread, and one of the more perceptive Architects recognized the value of regular updates on the search. Each time its assemblage encountered another, that leader proposed a Great Assemblage to be held at a landmark within the Mournland. Eventually the idea of an annual gathering spread through the assemblages, and it is now a tradition. At a Great Assemblage, the Architect of each group presents its assemblage’s plan so that all members can synchronize the record. Items of note might become central missions for the assemblages in the coming year, such as gathering more material from a particular ruin or observing a magical phenomenon in more detail.

The Great Assemblage meets on the first day of the month of Eyre (associated, appropriately, with the Mark of Making) and remains in convocation until all matters of importance have been discussed, usually about a week. The location changes from year to year; the gathering place for the next Assemblage is decided at the close of the current one.

The Godforged do not mark the passage of years with the Galifar calendar. Instead, they record the years spent in search of the Firstforge and the full awakening of the god. Sentient warforged have existed since 965 YK, and they gained recognition as free folk thirty-one years later. The concept of a construct god predates the emancipation of the warforged, but the great task itself began only then. Thus, the 998 YK corresponds to the second year Before the Becoming, or 2 BB. If and when the god is embodied, the reckoning will shift to After the Becoming.

The Godforged movement is of living constructs, for living constructs. A few highly deluded nonwarforged beings are fascinated by the cult, becoming lay followers of a sort, even though the Godforged do nothing to encourage or welcome them.

Many of these devotees began as scholars studying the movement from a psychological or sociological perspective, who became obsessed with their subject and lost academic detachment. They trail behind the trudging column of the questers, intent on observing everything, and send back raving dispatches filled with the language of revelation. Some, more fascinated than the others by the idea of a growing, built-in soul, even try to emulate the worshipers. They might submit to construct grafts, for example, or even try to rebuild their own bodies. This desperate option usually backfires, resulting in a crazed half-golem, an abomination that is quickly destroyed— often by the Godforged themselves. A few renegade mastermakers find a home—if not support—within the Godforged.

Some who are not driven mad or destroyed by their passion become strange underground preachers. They haunt the most wretched slums to spread the word of a new life in an unbreakable body. Such a life can only be granted by the Becoming God once it is manifest on earth. Most listeners mock their insane message, but any message of hope might find fertile ground among the poverty-wracked and desperate.

A relatively new heresy dubbed the “Incarnate Lord of Blades” was born from the fevered sermons of these nonwarforged cultists. According to their ramblings, the warforged messiah began existence as a fleshand-blood being who rebuilt his body—and his soul—with mechanical parts. To warforged devoted to either the Lord of Blades or the Godforged, the idea is ridiculous: The construct form is the most perfect. To most mortals, it is ghastly. The proponents of such a bizarre idea rarely speak of it openly for long; their voices are soon silenced . . . one way or another.