alec goldstein
I think I might like it here
Name: Chazzek Irongray
Nickname/Alias pops
Age: 23
Gender: Male
Race: Dwarf
Height: 4ft 4
Weight: 140 pounds
Hair: Bald
Eyes: Green
Skin: White/Tan
Identifying Marks: Green hat, brown gloves
Appearance: very broad shoulders, big arms and chest area containing good amounts of muscle. bald head. Has the kinda physique that when you stand next to him, you feel small.
Strengths:The only strength i have is strength itself. I am not very skillful with swords. just because i know how to make weapons, does not mean i know how to use them.
Weaknesses and fears: i am not very helpful in a fight. fears are as follows. Being betrayed, losing my job as a smith, high elevations.
Religion and cults: not the religious type. but i do believe there is a higher power out there.
Profession: Blacksmith.
I have been holding my hammer for as long as i can remember. The only thing im actually good at is beating iron and steel with iron itself, to make something out of a heaping pile of metal and iron. I used to live in a regular sized town. My father was the Blacksmith for that town. He was very important, always working, trying to meet the towns needs. The only time i ever got to actually hang out with him was when i went with him to his smithy.
My mother was a short slender woman with brown hair and green eyes. She hardly got to see my father until he came home late at night, tired from the rough days of work he had to go through to get our family by. Every time i went to the smithy with my father, he would show me a few things about smithing. It’s always the small things, such as taking out nicks and scratches out of swords and picaxes. He taught me other things as well, but nothing of any real use.
It was the same routine every day with my family. my father gets up to go to work early, my mother stayed at home to take care of me and the house while he was gone. My mother would spend hours looking out the window to the horizon. Sometimes she would break out crying without any warning. I tried to consolidate her the best i could. I never did find out why she cried so often, or why she even cried for that matter.
Then when i was 9 my father was sent out to another town that needed him. We weren’t able to go with him, seeing as though we didn’t have much money at the time to buy a new home. We would get a letter from my father often, usually saying how well things are going and how well his apprentice is doing. The apprentice’s name is michael, he was a nice man, and an honorable one at that. But when i turned 12, we got a note from a different messenger that day. My father died in a fire.
Some people burned his smithy down. My father was trapped inside. He didn’t make it out. 1 week later my fathers apprentice came back to our town. He came to take me with him, to teach me to become a blacksmith. My mother was reluctant to let me go, but in the end she decided to let me leave with her blessing. I spent 10 years under Michaels wing. During that time we had some great times together, some were not so good, and others were awful.
When i was 17, i hit a sword in a bad spot with my hammer, and i ended up breaking the sword into multiple pieces. The biggest piece ended up flying a bit in the air, and came down on my arms. I was cut bad, but i made it through that accident. I got some pretty scars to remember that by.
I spent 10 years under Michaels wing. At the age of 22 i decided to move on. I roamed the area for a few months, but i couldn’t find an area that felt like home. By the age of 23 i ended up roaming into Campus_Domini. The town had this feeling about it, a feeling of welcoming. Sure it’s not really much of a town at the time with only 3 residents, but the town itself felt promising. I decided to become the towns Blacksmith, since its the only profession i know.
I don’t why i still hit that anvil with my hammer though. Is it because its the only thing i know? No, thats not it. Is it because it makes me feel closer to my father? No i don’t think that is it either. I spent days trying to figure out the answer to this question. Until one day i found it. The reason i still go through those same motions everyday, lifting my arm up, to bring iron against steel, is to see those momentary sparks that emit from the impact.
That momentary flicker of life and energy, that comes as quickly as it fades. That is the reason i still do what i do today. Those sparks, my hammer and anvil, are my companions. They are the only things i truly trust in this world.
Nickname/Alias pops
Age: 23
Gender: Male
Race: Dwarf
Height: 4ft 4
Weight: 140 pounds
Hair: Bald
Eyes: Green
Skin: White/Tan
Identifying Marks: Green hat, brown gloves
Appearance: very broad shoulders, big arms and chest area containing good amounts of muscle. bald head. Has the kinda physique that when you stand next to him, you feel small.
Strengths:The only strength i have is strength itself. I am not very skillful with swords. just because i know how to make weapons, does not mean i know how to use them.
Weaknesses and fears: i am not very helpful in a fight. fears are as follows. Being betrayed, losing my job as a smith, high elevations.
Religion and cults: not the religious type. but i do believe there is a higher power out there.
Profession: Blacksmith.
I have been holding my hammer for as long as i can remember. The only thing im actually good at is beating iron and steel with iron itself, to make something out of a heaping pile of metal and iron. I used to live in a regular sized town. My father was the Blacksmith for that town. He was very important, always working, trying to meet the towns needs. The only time i ever got to actually hang out with him was when i went with him to his smithy.
My mother was a short slender woman with brown hair and green eyes. She hardly got to see my father until he came home late at night, tired from the rough days of work he had to go through to get our family by. Every time i went to the smithy with my father, he would show me a few things about smithing. It’s always the small things, such as taking out nicks and scratches out of swords and picaxes. He taught me other things as well, but nothing of any real use.
It was the same routine every day with my family. my father gets up to go to work early, my mother stayed at home to take care of me and the house while he was gone. My mother would spend hours looking out the window to the horizon. Sometimes she would break out crying without any warning. I tried to consolidate her the best i could. I never did find out why she cried so often, or why she even cried for that matter.
Then when i was 9 my father was sent out to another town that needed him. We weren’t able to go with him, seeing as though we didn’t have much money at the time to buy a new home. We would get a letter from my father often, usually saying how well things are going and how well his apprentice is doing. The apprentice’s name is michael, he was a nice man, and an honorable one at that. But when i turned 12, we got a note from a different messenger that day. My father died in a fire.
Some people burned his smithy down. My father was trapped inside. He didn’t make it out. 1 week later my fathers apprentice came back to our town. He came to take me with him, to teach me to become a blacksmith. My mother was reluctant to let me go, but in the end she decided to let me leave with her blessing. I spent 10 years under Michaels wing. During that time we had some great times together, some were not so good, and others were awful.
When i was 17, i hit a sword in a bad spot with my hammer, and i ended up breaking the sword into multiple pieces. The biggest piece ended up flying a bit in the air, and came down on my arms. I was cut bad, but i made it through that accident. I got some pretty scars to remember that by.
I spent 10 years under Michaels wing. At the age of 22 i decided to move on. I roamed the area for a few months, but i couldn’t find an area that felt like home. By the age of 23 i ended up roaming into Campus_Domini. The town had this feeling about it, a feeling of welcoming. Sure it’s not really much of a town at the time with only 3 residents, but the town itself felt promising. I decided to become the towns Blacksmith, since its the only profession i know.
I don’t why i still hit that anvil with my hammer though. Is it because its the only thing i know? No, thats not it. Is it because it makes me feel closer to my father? No i don’t think that is it either. I spent days trying to figure out the answer to this question. Until one day i found it. The reason i still go through those same motions everyday, lifting my arm up, to bring iron against steel, is to see those momentary sparks that emit from the impact.
That momentary flicker of life and energy, that comes as quickly as it fades. That is the reason i still do what i do today. Those sparks, my hammer and anvil, are my companions. They are the only things i truly trust in this world.
