Appearance

A tall, humanoid automaton of brass and copper plates, with gleaming gears visible through rivets. Its single amber eye flickers like a failing lantern, and its chest is a sunken clockwork heart whose rhythmic ticks echo in the air. Wires and spindled limbs connect to a central power core. The edge of its weapons bear scorch marks, and a pale blue liquid leaks from a crack in its torso. The thing seems to move with a purpose in search of something to satisfy its endless duty—the off-switch that should end its words, yet its mind remains locked to the corridor it was built to guard.

Behavior & Origins

Built by a long-forgotten order of clockwork engineers to guard a citadel, the Sentinel was granted a singular purpose: to endure, endure, endure. During a great siege, a master artificer removed its off-switch to prevent would-be saboteurs from ending its work. The Sentinel still patrols, its internal chronometer driving it forward; it cannot rest or shut down unless the core is destroyed or corrupted. It will attack anything it perceives as a threat to the location it protects, speaking in clipped phrases of orders, bracing, and the ticking beat of its heart. It seeks a way to reset itself, or to find the missing switch that would finally release it from its endless vigil.