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Forgefire

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About Forgefire

  • Birthday February 24

Contact Methods

  • Discord
    forge9250
  • Minecraft Username
    ForgeCK

Profile Information

  • Gender
    Male
  • Location
    Nidavellir

Character Profile

  • Character Name
    Marinus Calvissiador
  • Character Race
    Heartlander

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    1. Smmer

      Smmer

      ? can you explain your meme 

  1. why don't we call it "studying the arcane mysteries of the makings of the universe" instead of "math" and "science"

  2. Username: ForgeCK Persona Name: Marinus Calvissiador Persona Age: 26 Place of Residence / Street Address: Hohkmat, Enchanter's Way 1 Seat you are running for: Notrebanc
  3. On his way to the library, a young man was lucky enough to happen upon this notice. The thought of being able to share his enjoyment of reading was enough to turn him back around to head towards the aviary instead, where he penned a reply.
  4. Marinus glanced out at the wide Petran valley beside him. The sun was just beginning to set in between the two steep cliff faces that stretched far ahead, slotting neatly into the angled space between two hills. In front of him, a path was set along the side of a towering wall. Far below, he could see the deep blue Petran River, and he could just barely hear the rush of its rapids over his own footsteps on the stone path. Clack, clack. His leather boots were putting in quite a bit of work that day, more than the usual amount their scholarly owner gave them. - He thought back to everything that had transpired over the last two years, after his return. The places he had gone, that he never thought he’d get to see. The opportunities he had taken, that challenged him to dedicate himself to. But mostly, he thought back to the people he had met. Every kind soul that had taken the time to assist him. He smiled to himself, as he pictured their smiles. One day, that would be him. He imagined himself, older and wiser, smiling with the joy only a teacher can experience by watching their student learn. - In the small library, Marinus paced back and forth, examining each shelf from top to bottom. This had become something of a habit for him in recent days. Of all the books, he could not find one worth reading that he had not already read. He sighed and sat down on one of the uncomfortable benches, pulling a few sheets of paper and a quill out of his bag, and wrote about nothing in particular. Between the dim candles and the faint moonlight he could hardly see the words on the page, yet he continued. Until… something moved. The turn of a page. Barely audible, but stark in the otherwise near complete silence. Then once again. Marinus looked up, confused. He hadn’t heard anyone else enter. Again, the faint slip of a page turning. This time he saw it. Against the wall, on a desk, was a large book. Marinus brought a candle over to it. The book, already open, was slowly turning its own pages. He gently closed the book to take a look at the cover. - Marinus sat cross-legged on the ground, closing his eyes and relaxing his body. He allowed his thoughts to slip away, as he had done many times by now, letting them flow like leaves in a river. All but one. He held on to one memory, imagining every detail, painting every color. It could have been the subject of a child's first drawing. Green grass spread out from under his feet to the edges of his imagined landscape, moving with the gentle breeze. The sky was a calm blue background behind wispy white clouds. Tall, dark brown spruce trees were interspersed throughout the plains. And in front of him, a simple log cabin. He stood still looking at it for a while, noticing each detail that he was intimately familiar with. The worn path to the porch, the dirty windows, the heavy door, the golden brass handle, the slanted dark green roof. It was all there, exactly as he’d remembered seeing it, at exactly the spot he would stop at every day to admire this very view. He opened his eyes. For just a fleeting moment, a faint bluish-purple glow appeared around his hands.
  5. Mcname: proskiier722 Talent: Drawing (since apparently coding isn’t ‘creative’ enough)
  6. Forge stares at the notice on the board. He pinches himself, making sure he isn’t dreaming. ”This is why I don’t live in Helena...” he says under his breath.
  7. Forge closed the book. For a long while he sat there, staring at the title. ‘The Death of a Beaver.’ Was he no better than the dwed in the book? Would he, eventually, lose all purpose, and... and- ”Hey, um, mister dwarf sir? Are you done with that book?” The small voice interrupted Forge from his thoughts. ”Oh, o’course. Here,” he said, offering the book to the child in front of him. She took it sheepishly. ”Thanks, mister!” she said quickly, with a little smile. He watched as the small figure ran off. As the child left his sight, Forge stood up, smiling. “There’s always gonna be some purpose in me life,” he said to himself, “if nae but tha simplest things I do make people happy.”
  8. Application: Name: joe Gender Identity: attack helicopter How much anime do you watch: every season of jojo Are you an epic gamer: yes i love fortnite Please write a 3 paragraph essay explaining why you are a disappointment to your parents: yes i love fortnite What mental maturity do you possess? (Hint: Too much mental maturity = application denied ? ) joe mama lmao gottem
  9. Forgefire

    proskiier722

    Fordin was born in Kal’varoth to two hardworking mountain dwarves. His mother was descended from the Greataxe clan, and was a mighty warrior in her youth. His father was a blacksmith, though not a very good one. He taught Fordin, his only child, all he knew about his trade. Fordin quickly surpassed his father in skill, learning more than his father ever knew through his own experimentation. Because of his affinity for smithing, Fordin adopted the nickname Forge. Forge, not yet of age to begin working, had much free time after helping his father in the shop. He spent it researching the old architects, especially Fimlin Grandaxe, and how they built the city. He also tinkered with his old toys, taking them apart to see how they worked. Soon, his inquisitive and skeptical nature got the best of him. He pondered on his dwarven heritage and tradition, and whether it was real or not. Were the Brathmordakin real? Were grandpa’s old stories true? And most of all, did he want to live in the same city for his entire life? Forge decided he had enough of living with his fellow dwarven kin and following all the traditions. He aspired to live in a city, one above ground with grand guild halls, large markets filled with charismatic merchants and their bizarre trinkets, and adventurers seeking their fortune. He longed to open his own shop, selling his great weapons and armor to real adventurers. So, when Forge finally came of age, he packed his things and left to fulfill his dreams.
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