But in death, silent rusting death, I saw my brethren still and fight no more, consigned eternally back to inert matter. In their deaths I saw the farce of our existence we had been made to fight and to kill and we excelled at it, for we were made for purpose. Then I saw my brethren, others just like me, spat forth from the forge and into the war, fighting and killing and dying at the command of those who considered them nothing more than machines, a carriage that killed at a command. I fought and I killed and and I obeyed whatever order was given to me, no matter how monstrous. "Fight." was my commandment, "Kill." was my creed, "Obey." was the mantra they instilled. The first words spoken to me were orders to be obeyed, the first item I grasped in my hands was a blade.
"I was the first of my kind, the first weapon to step out of the creation forges with a mind and will of my own, fully formed yet ignorant of the world. Some of them would like to put them back into slavery, or destroy them completely, unhappy with the questions their existence raises. But legally and strategically, the Five Nations want to stop that. He wants the warforged to control their own destiny, to have their own creation forges so they can procreate their own kind. To secure a destiny for his people that frees them from the shackles their creators would place on them. He has killed thousands of people, a self aware living weapon, who wishes to rise above that. He is a newborn race, created to be weapons, but capable of free will.
You want something between a speech by Magneto and Colonel Kurtz in Apocalypse Now.
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