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Moxie's Stories.

Moxie flunked out of Wizard School when they realized that she could not cast magic. That was it. She left home on a twelve day journey to the city, spent two weeks in school and was deemed a lost cause. And while, yes, she was slower to take on the practice than the other kids, and even to this day she has been unable to cast spells like normal wizards and sorcerers do, she felt that the reason they were so quick to give up on her is for who she was. She's a dog girl, part dog, part girl. Well, actually, it's Half-Wolf-half-husky and half girl.

Stories and myths have been created off of this premise, and a few of the more outrageous ones can still hold ground due to the fact that she never knew her father, and her mother died while in labor with her.

She was an orphan child with a large castle that overlooked the town of Frostwood to deal with and a loyal servant, Mixheal that while mute, did what he could for her. Moxie was raised by herself, and when she learned to read, it seemed to be her only escape from reality, and she read everything, eventually to the point where her parent's extensive library was completely read, and she imagined often about things mentioned in the books. Futuristic Societies with trips to the moon and undersea adventures, and descents to the other side of the earth. Mages and dragons. Vampires and werewolves. Towers that ascend beyond the vanishing point, way up high. Caves way below the surface where the rhythmic pounding of pickaxes on stone be the dwarves' only friends. Large battle fields and growing nations. Moxie wanted to see them all, and Mage school was the easiest way for her to do that. She was already too much of a bookworm.

But there she was, two weeks after classes, she met with the principal that told her that she was hopeless, and her teachers won't bother teaching her anymore. But they'll keep her money anyways.

Mixheal kept his silence when she returned, and could never let up how much he cared about her. He was a shadow in the castle and could never bring himself to be her friend. And she never saw him as such, more like a mysterious creature living in the castle with her, like the cats and rats. It still didn't change the fact that he did care for her, and coming home from wizarding school as a flunky crushed him as much as it crushed her, and he was distraught to find that she became more reclusive than ever, and spent all of her time in the library, where her only frinds be, in hand written, leather bound form, and in her room, where she may dream in peace.

Moxie didn't realize it at first, but she was gaining more and more books by the day. She realized it one day when she went to return one of the books she fell asleep reading, and spotted one that she never saw before in it's place on the shelf.

Cracking the book open, it talked about the ways of the Artificer type. People who can't cast spells, but have an extreme proficiency in using items in magical ways. Moxie was stunned when she found that she could change the color of ink in pens and heat metals to the point where it can melt other metals.

Mixheal was pleased when he saw her mood was much lighter and content over the next week, so he went out and found another how-to book. This one was on relatively new technology being developed in the east. Its title was simple, Machina, and it went into gears, wires, springs, gyroscopes, and many wondrous inventions. She played around with some of the idea, and built quite a few machines out of the stuff she found in the book. But what got her drooling was the final chapter, which vaguely went into the concept of the self propelled anthromech, which is commonly referred to as Warforged.

Mixheal was happy for Moxie when she started drawing again, and didn't think of the consequences when he happened upon a banned book, The Warforged, which not only went over the history of the mechs, but also the creation of them. You see, the north is very prejudice against new things and ideas, it's why Moxie was ushered into a sheltered life, and wore a bonnet and long dress whenever out in public. Despite it, she was still often teased for her grey hair. Warforged Creators were often treated like people trying to achieve the gods' work, and are hunted like the blasphemers they are.

What most people rarely realize is that no leading member of the leading clergy of the area have ever spoken out against the Warforged. Rather, it is a superstition propagated by the regional Mages who could not figure out the workings of the Warforged, and demonized them. There's not much else that arrogant minds such as their's can do when faced with something beyond their school of thought. In fact, the mages have been putting down advances in mundane tech for ages, because they know that if the public can reach their level, they will become all but extinct. Why study for years in order to hurl fireballs, when someone can just create explosives?

Ah, but Moxie, the shut-in she is, did not know of the public's nor the mages' feelings to such creations that fill her dreams and thoughts. She needed to build one herself. But in order to do that, she'd have to learn how to make weapons and armor. The book
says that people attempting to learn this craft should be able to know how to make
various armors and weapons. So she applied for an apprenticeship with the local blacksmith, and used her great wealth to persuade him to choose her above the others.

And for a few years she worked with him, cleaning up shop, helping to sell objects, shoeing horses. It certainly wasn't about the swords and armor she thought it was going to be, and her master was very stingy about sharing those secrets.

It actually took a visit from a group of adventurers heading southward from the east that finally got her working with armor. They were in town for a bit to recover from their last dungeon delve, and to prepare for the trip over the mountains to a city more commonly referred to as The Town.

You must understand the shock of a group of adventurers coming to a town such as Frostwood, where conformity and peaceful labor was appreciated, at least from the older folks. The town was rapidly turning into a popular stop due to it's proximity to the mountains, which is to say close enough that you can return from it within a few days if you get critically injured, and need help, but long enough away that many creature don't make it routine to venture down to it. Moxie's master had mixed feelings about the upspring in business, and about the adventurers that approach this place in the dark winter months, but of course, since his prime means of speaking was a mixture of grunts and spits, Moxie couldn't really read him. She was more concerned with them.

The man who frequented her shop the most often during their two month stay was a Paladin that went by the name of Lucius MacInard. He was incredibly handsome, and plays the Paladin part well. Note that I said "plays" and not "is a great paladin." He was incredibly handsome and well built, talked extremely pronounced and was incredibly respectful, even in his direct way. You take Elan, from OOTS, but rather a bit more intelligent and a lot more klutzy, and you have this guy. Extremely Charismatic, but impulsive and often rushed into battles he shouldn't have. ((Anyone interested in playing a bold, klutzy paladin with a good heart and delusions of grandeur? PM me.))

And that probably explains why, when he entered the town, he was in tattered clothes rather than armor.

Well, during his trips to the shop for updates and material requests, he often boasted about his past adventures, including the White Dragon he help defeat in his last battle. And how he lost his armor after his party shattered it trying to break him loose after being hit by the icy Cone of Cold.

Anyone could tell he had a crush on Moxie from the moment he saw her, she seemed spunky and nice. Well, anyone, it seems, but Moxie. Moxie's interest was more towards Lucius' companions, she never met an elf before, and this one was certainly noble and carried herself with poise, but she was a Wizard, and her views towards Moxie's inventions that she left around the shop were not favorable, to say the least. Lucius' other companion was a Halfling that Moxie had repeatedly tossed out for attempting to steal from the shop. Moxie was surprised, however, when she found the Halfling's riding dog a better conversation than the rest of the party, but kept her ability to talk to the animal a secret.

All the while, the Paladin's orders for a full suit of armor, and a few weapons to replace the ones he lost forced the Blacksmith the accept Moxie's help with the project, and she learned how to make swords and armor.

At night in the tavern, Lucius would talk about The Town, where he originally came from to the rest of his party. Moxie enjoyed hearing tales of Trog's Tavern, where beasts of all types would gather, and nobody cared what you are so long as what you are wasn't trying to kill them.

It was a short two months before the spring came and the pass opened up, and the party left. Moxie continued working with the Blacksmith over the summer, and, having gotten armoring and weapon making skill down, she left, and went back to the castle so she could build her great project.

And she did, she built it, piece by piece, as her book described. The form was perfect. It was tall and strong, and sleek,  and Moxie became infatuated with it, even when it was immobile, she just loved it. It was beautiful in her eyes. You ever experience love or a crush, or an infatuation, or really, really bad gas? It was kind of like that.

Then, one day, she used a crystal, carved specifically as the book described, and embedded her magic into it. She inserted the crystal into the mechanical armor, and brought it to life.

Over the next few weeks, she talked and spent time with her newly constructed friend, and she fell in love with him. He was everything she needed. He really didn't care anyways.

Ah, but how long can you have such a thing in your castle with you before people find out? Mixheal slowly became jealous of Moxie's attention to her new friend, and became bitter about not even receiving a thank you for his help. It just so happened that evidence that she built this thing had wound up in the hands of a local wizard who rallied the people of the town with pitchforks and torches.

Well it doesn't take a genius to figure out what happens next. The people broke into the castle, and threatened Moxie's warforged with death, and realized her deep secret, that she was a freak as well. They cornered her and the Warforged. And her creation made a break for it, leaving her at the mercy of the mob. She would've been toast, too, if Mixheal did not realize here potential harm at last minute, lead her to an escape tunnel, then sacrificed himself for her. The only words uttered from his lips to her; "Be well."

She could hear the chaos and his screams follow her on her way out of her castle, with the equipment she packed beforehand. She made off towards the south, to the Town and this Trog's.

It was a little while later, halfway up the mountain, that she came across her creation, well, the shredded remains of such, may he rest in piece. She suffered much, due to the fact that she attempted to move across the mountains during the winter, when the passes were closed, making her route that much longer.

After many encounters, she made it down the other side, and the city known as The Town was in clear view. Her new home at last.

((Note: I'm very receptive to tie-ins, and if you want a character to be part of that party mentioned, or take control of one of the characters from the party, give me a PM.))


Xyx is a psionic gearbox. A box that has holes for wires and gears and is enchanted with a great degree of intelligence by Moxie.

Xyx currently resides in a suit of thick armor that has many wires for controlled movement. His design makes him easier to break than normal warforged, but also easier to upgrade, repair, and replace.

Moxie refers to him as a Warforged, but he is really a Self-Propelled Mechanical Armor Suit, and in fact, because Xyx is just the control module inside the suit, he has the potential to be placed into a large variety of objects and make them function.

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