Hyacinth told her, when asked, that she had slept for a long time.
That she had been found by their scouts, collapsed before a barricaded door that had long been broken into when they found her. She had been damaged, her armour scarred, by orc weapons from the look and had somehow lost consciousness in this attack. The ones inside, that the war forged must have fallen protecting, were small and only bones now, littered with rags.
The scout party, a group of Halfling Arvoreen keepers had been checking out the abandoned Dwarven hold that loomed over their lands, after decades of it standing empty.
They had expected to find orcs, taking refuge in the great mountain, perhaps goblins, maybe a few baubles or tapestries to carry home. The trinkets they would find would not be their objective however.
Keeping their lands safe, keeping them clear of danger and their people protected was worth more than any gold or jewel.
Hyacinth smiled at the war forged now in their keeping, dragged from the keep, once inactive, now awake and seemingly bewildered at the Halfling children climbing its massive copper body like ants over an apple.
It seems they found a little of both.
It had taken little time and more than a little research into getting the war forged up and going, something Hyacinth, as the villages resident scholar was quite willing to do, for such a puzzle and such a reward.
To find the being sentient and comprehensible, despite its preference for few words, upon waking was more than hyacinth could dream of, though, informing the sentinel of the fate of its people, the ones it had promised to protect had been surprisingly difficult.
Hyacinth had read of some war forged who had something of a soul, an awareness beyond battle and some who became attached to the ones they were made to protect but she did not expect the tears, almost ghostlike trails of pale green fire to pour down the helmet of the being.
she didn’t expect that at all.
and there was a time where the war forged may as well have been an ancient set of armour, stood lifeless and empty in the corner of her workshop, so deep in its grief it was.
The war forged seemed immediately attached to the little ones, at first to those curious enough to brave the workshop to see the copper giant and then to the others as it was dragged helplessly outside by tiny insistent hands, out into the sunlight.
the grownups were at first terrified at this giant war machine towering over their children, giant hands lifting the little ones to its shoulders, giant feet that could squish their babes in a moment. But they were surprised to find that the children loved the war forged back.
The children, being the race they were, were quick to make friends, to make flower crowns and bustle and shove to be the first to show the sentinel the first beetle of spring. They learned to stop showing off their scrapes and bruises from play, as it would only lead to the war forged scooping them up and taking the little one to Hyacinth, to have their wounds treated. But this was a trait that endeared the being to the Halflings, no matter the exasperation of the parent over a simple thing such as a splinter, it was almost sweet of the insistence of this giant armoured being, and quite dear.
it was the children that named her and gave her gender and decorated her in her new name sake, pink and white peonies grown in the gardens of the people.
But it was Hyacinth that gave her a purpose, after a careful and long conversation, and painted the white swords of Avoreen on her arm. And though Hyacinth, wringing her hands would ask time and again, whether this was what she truly wanted, Peony would say she wanted nothing more.
and it was true.
She had people to protect, a hammer in her hand and the love of those counting on her.
and she would not fail again.
Randomroll Commission for @slinkmink, this one was a joy, honestly i’m so attached, she’s so lovely, i hope she has great adventures!
✨(commission info)(kofi)✨
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