The weary Pallidin looked across the wave tossed cove. The ship creaked and groaned as it made headway into the crack in the forbidding stone cliffs. The small wharf was surrouned by walls, with a single opening leading to even more walls.
Ferricgnome gathered his meager possesion into his backpack, shouldered it, and armed himself as he stepped off the ship. Approaching the first person he saw, a man at a desk like table atop a few barrels, He hailed the man. "I'm much to busy to talk to the likes of you" as he turned away from the immobile countenance of the WarForged.
Others around the plaza looked at him with scorn and perhaps a little fear in their eyes. With a sigh, he moved towards the door of a tavern, realizing the the prejudice against his kind that existed on the islands carried even to the town of Stormreach.
In the tavern he encountered a few others of his kind. He was welcomed and bade to sit and share some oil. He quickly learned, that officially at least, here he was in fact equal and allowed to do or go as he pleased. However, the ingrained prejudice against the WarForged still existed in individuals, especailly among the clerics of the church. Those robed and cowled dispensors of the GODS graces openely refused to assist and offer healing when needed. So what if it took a little longer to heal the construct, the construct did not need healing as often, and are always loyal to those who befriend them. Perhaps it is the old animosity from the the last war. The church tried to get control of the Warforged minions and make them permament servants of the church. However the King and the council of Ebberon granted them their freedom in exchange for the service rendered to all races during the war.
He learned that other classes such as the socerers and Bards welcomed the accomplished Warforged in their midst and shared equally the treasures to be found on the many quests. So it was with a renewed sense of hope that he struck out to seek his fortune in the harbor.....................