He awakened. At least he thought he was a He. He looked down and saw the digits on his outstretched hand. “Hmmm…a hand,” he thought. He blinked his eyes adjusting to the dark surroundings. He leaned forward stumbling as he stepped down from the slightly reclined slab he previously laid on. It was chilly in the dark storeroom. He rubbed his arms trying to get warm and he noticed the rough texture of his clothes. He noticed his surroundings: neatly bundled packs of clothes, books, and a few simple weapons. He hefted a long sword in his hands, and it didn’t feel quite right. He then moved over to the stacks of books, and thumbing through them he realized the Arcane symbols and the words of magic were clear in his mind. He recited them aloud and a small light appeared in his hand illuminating the room further. Seeing a door he approached it. Moving through the cobwebs he reached forward grasping the handle, and swung it open. The light of the day bathed him in its warm light….
Mademen, the Created, the Sandmen, the living scarecrows; physically they are an amalgamation of steel and cloth, and often filled with sand, straw, or leaves. These materials are used to fill up their form. A ridged metal skeleton holds them upright. Their minds however are a different matter. There is no explanation of what awakens them, and none remember anything more than the point and time at which they became aware. Often with no one around them, they wander out of some ancient storeroom or tomb covered in dust and cobwebs. They appear as beings of burlap and leather stitched together. They are clearly constructed from some unknown origin, but of common materials and resources.