[color=E0D6C0] [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/wFqApY1.png[/img][/center]
[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/fXzi00H.gif[/img][hr][h1][b][color=30A4D9]Bastion[/color][/b][/h1][/center]

[center][color=30A4D9][b]Race:[/b][/color] Warforged
[color=30A4D9][b]Class:[/b][/color] Guardian
[color=30A4D9][b]Location:[/b][/color] The Kraken's Wake, on the floor, surrounded by fragments of wooden chair
[color=30A4D9][b]Mentions:[/b][/color] Phia [@princess], Arya [@potter], Corin [@Lava Alckon], Minerva [@FunnyGuy]
[color=30A4D9][b]Equipment:[/b][/color]  
[hider=equipment][color=F9D972]☼[/color] Tower Shield  
[color=F9D972]☼[/color] Greatsword made of Glacium (A material as hard as steel, yet formed from eternally frozen ice.)
[color=F9D972]☼[/color] Titan Chain – A reinforced tow chain housed in his left palm, functioning as a powerful grappling hook.  
[color=F9D972]☼[/color] Aged Leather Satchel   
[color=F9D972]☼[/color] Worn but cherished scarf
[color=F9D972]☼[/color] Maintenance Kit .
[color=F9D972]☼[/color] Heavy-duty rations (for companions, not himself).  
[color=F9D972]☼[/color] A delicate glass figurine of a bird—an old keepsake.  
[color=F9D972]☼[/color] A locked, timeworn journal—contents unknown.  [/hider]
[color=30A4D9][b]Attire:[/b][/color]  
[color=F9D972]☼[/color] Etched and weathered ivory metal plating with bronze accents.  
[color=F9D972]☼[/color] Fitted harness for carrying supplies.  
[color=F9D972]☼[/color] Worn scarf 
[color=30A4D9][b]Gold Balance:[/b][/color] 33 gold
[color=30A4D9][b]Injuries:[/b][/color]  
[color=F9D972]☼[/color] Left shoulder was injured in the battle and is still leaking fluid.  
 [/center][hr]

As the tavern erupted in laughter, as Bastion sat there on the floor looking up at Minerva… what the others didn’t see was where the seconds in between transported the Warforged in the memory palace of his mind.

The breaking of the chair and crashing of his form upon the ground teleported his thoughts to another impact. The thud of his armored frame smashing against the tavern floor was barely a sound at all compared to the memory of his body careening into the rain-slick valley and colliding against the ground below. Rocks and stone fragmented upon impact with a force that would have left a crater if only the ground had been dirt. 

Alchemical fluid leaked from Bastion’s multiple wounds. The pearlescent amethyst liquid pooled beneath him as his very lifeforce… the closest thing a Warforged had to blood… continued to spill from him like tapped tree sap from an overgrown maple. The heavy drops of rain pattered against his metal as the blue light of his arcane lens eyes flickered and dimmed second to second. He was in bad shape. The intensity of magical feedback and structural stress from the damage he had taken was unlike the traditional pain that typical mortals felt, yet the discomfort of it was torture all the same. 

Flashes of what happened before he had been kicked from the ledge played over and over in his mind as his cognitive arcana tried to process what had happened, and what to do now. The image of young Tirian screaming….[b]begging[/b] for his aid played on repeat in his mind’s eye. He had been unable to reach the boy. The forces of opposition were simply too much for any one being to manage. He had tried his best, he had slain countless in his attempt…even those of his own kind that stood in his way. Though none of the details mattered, his intention did not matter, his skill did not matter, his years of service did not matter, his years of learning what it felt like to know friendship did not matter. 

[center][sub][color=30A4D9]He had failed.[/color][/sub] 
[color=F9D972] [i]He Had Failed[/i].[/color] 
[h2][color=red][b]HE. HAD. FAILED.[/B][/color][/h2][/center]

[color=30A4D9]“Oh…”[/color] He said with sorrowful understanding as he stared up at the endless rain that fell above and the 200ft stretch of depth between him and the little boy that had become his purpose. 

The sound of his own voice snapped him back to reality, as that one…. simple word escaped him both in his memory and his present. He came to just in time to see Minerva yelling at the other patrons for laughing at him. 

[i]Why[/i], he wondered. She seemed so insulted on his behalf. Bastion’s head cocked to one side like that of a confused dog as he pondered in that instant, but even that thought was brought to an abrupt end as he was impressively hoisted from the ground and back onto his feet by his old comrade, Sir Talmor. 

[color=#6C2DC7]”Alright big guy remember us normal people use chairs that can’t take all that metal you call an ass. Maybe kneel near the table for now? But take it easy, Big Red.”[/color] The Gem Knight instructed. Bastion nodded compliantly but remained quiet. 

The sounds of the others talking drifted out into a numb resonance in the background as he looked at each of them, one by one taking in the sight of the people he had met since boarding the airship that had changed everything. Finally, his eyes fell onto Arya and then Phia in the distance. His thoughts turned back to Tirian, the hue of his dark magenta hair was not dissimilar to that of Phia’s… Though the girl’s was lighter, prettier. He reflected on his failure then, on what he found when he climbed that 200ft back up the side of the ravine. His arcane core felt like it was sinking down into his stomach. 

Would he fail them too? [/color]

[center][img] https://i.imgur.com/jLlcbFy.gif[/img][/center]