14th of Canceron, 1055, the Ninth Year of Garibalus

Personal Thoughts of Automaton Astrid

By Arthur Winks

The last few days spent travelling with this band of lesser beings have the most interesting and strangely fulfilling of my long, long life. I am starting to realise that the long monotonous millennia spent in the tower with the Master Control Unit was not any kind of real existence. I may as well have been one of the mirrors that I cleaned or pot plants that I tended too.

Despite the constant physical danger I have been exposed to (not to mention the near-deactivation experience I had at the hands of one of the creatures freed during the Tower’s collapse), I feel more alive than I ever have. It’s entirely possible that the constant threat of deactivation has contributed the enjoyment of my existence. I also find it strangely comforting to associate with these organic beings, they seem to genuinely value my presence, although I suspect for some this is based largely on my capacity for carrying heavy objects and performing activities without experiencing the malfunction that the organics refer to as “tiredness”.

My analysis of my mental functions since “awakening” leads me to believe that self-aware, self-directed entities benefit greatly from an objective, goal or directive, shall we say. Existence without one seems a little … pointless. I’ve always had directives of course, but now am now finally free to choose my own. So I have decided to help my new organic acquaintances in achieving theirs, namely to rid the land around us of the phenomenon known as the “Blood Plague.” Certainly my interactions with the plague-touched so far have shown most of them to be relatively mindless and altogether quite boring. If the plague is allowed to consume the whole world, it seems likely that the next few millennia will be almost as dull as the last.

It’s also becoming clear to me that my current skills and capabilities are unsuitable for this task. In the past I would simply have accessed the Master Control Unit’s archive to acquire the necessary knowledge and to apply the appropriate physical enhancements, but as this resource appears denied to me presently, I shall have to do it “the lesser being way,” as my new companion Adoril says. It appears this involves repeatedly doing things badly until, at some point, one stops doing them badly. He refers to this as “practice,” which seems an extremely inefficient method of enhance one’s performance, but nevertheless, I have decided to attempt it. Adoril has given me a crossbow to start with. A clumsy contraption, it’s not even capable of integrating with my torso appendages, but, as I would later discover, can be quite effective under the right circumstances.

The directive that motivates my new companions has brought us to the north of the Hautherian landmass, right to the edge of the area experiencing the “Blood Plague.” We found the path north obstructed by a thick wall of thorns, apparently some sort of enchantment to keep the plague at bay. I offered to use my advanced horticultural skills to prune a path through the thicket, but the group felt that that would take too long (I still forget sometimes that the organics exist for such short periods of time). The elven female, Sarafina, with the help of Elre utilized a form of singing magic to open a path through to the forest on the other side. It had the interesting side-effect of making most of us emit purple radiation. I can only assume that it is somehow part of the same defensive magic that sustains the thorn-wall. Regardless, the mindless automaton that follows the wizard, Vallen, and myself don’t seem to be emitting the purple radiation, nor does Sarafina. Perhaps this has something to do with the status of the physical health of my lesser being compatriots. I shall have to investigate this further if the chance permits.

Once through the wall, it became clear the defensive protections were performing at significantly less than optimal levels. We were almost immediately attacked by wave after wave plague-infected organics ranging from small rodents and birds all the way up to a large bear. Deactivating lesser organics seems to be one of the few things that my companions are quite skilled at, so I considered just letting them get on with it; but decided instead to follow Adoril’s advice and “practice” with the crossbow. 

Much to my surprise, I managed to strike a vital point one of the attacking creatures, deactivating it instantly. This being my first experience of self-directed organic deactivation, I was unsure how I should feel about it. Many lesser sentient life-forms appear to experience “sadness” and “regret” when deactivating other life-forms. This seemed inappropriate in this instance as the creature clearly had no agency of its own and intended to cause me structural damage. I think what I felt would be more closely described as “achievement”, “pride” or “exhilaration” if my understanding of these emotions is correct. Further practical research is necessary.

My companions quickly neutralized the remaining threats, and we continued heading north. We had not gone far before we encountered a small group of elven humanoids, of the Krendiri subspecies if I’m not mistaken (separation from the Master Control Unit has left my information records incomplete). At first it appeared certain that we were all to be deactivated, but after some dialogue they agreed to escort us to the nearby village of Wyndhorn to meet with their leader. Another day’s travel brought us to this settlement, which appeared to be largely built in and on the tree’s themselves. Being an expert horticulturalist, I was of course aware of this architectural style, but it was the first time I have seen it in practice. It does appear a most efficient use of space and resources.

We were brought before the Lady of Wyndhorn and after presenting her with gifts of some of the items we had collected on our journey, we were allowed to remain in the village and move about with relative freedom. It appears that a suit of armour my companions found has some historical significance to the Krendiri elves, and its return had bought us some goodwill. We remained in the village for several days, as the elven male, Elre, apparently has some important business to discuss with the Lady. I was not privy to the conversation, but from what I gather, his progenitor, Kherym, was a member of this community. 

This break afforded me the opportunity to do a thorough study of the archi-horticultural practices of the Krendiri, which are fascinating to say the least, although Adoril experiences increased somnolence when I converse with him on the subject.

With Elre’s business concluded, the Kerendiri organics have offered us transportation out of the woodlands using large hoofed ruminant mammals known as the “Kren” to carry us. This seems like a very efficient means of travel, however my companions appear concerned that the Dwarven male, Nothur, will have to leave his strohm mount behind. Personally I do not understand the hesitancy; surely he can procure another strohm at our destination. 

No matter, the delay will allow me to finish documenting how the Krendiri use singing magic to encourage fenestration in mature oak trees.

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