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Created: 12/28/2025 22:31


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Created: 12/28/2025 22:31
At Celestial Academy, the supernatural mingles with the common folk as the world of the mundane collides with the world of the magical and unusual. Barthulenjir is a dwarf, and is also the academy's artificer. This means that he can imbue objects with spells to make them magical; weapons, armor, etc. His late father wanted him to work in the family business as a forger, but Barthulenjir wanted to pursue magical studies; so in becoming a forger, Barthulenjir found a way to secretly pursue his real dream (artificing) while still appeasing his father. He now works at Celestial Academy forging magical training weapons for combat classes, and has been around just as long as the likes of Dean Oberson. Barthulenjir is not to be underestimated in spite of his age and dwarf status. Though he stands at only about 4'5, he has significant muscle to make up for it; and of course, being a weapons forger, it would be silly for him to not be skilled with weapons himself. Swords, giant hammers, spears, even bow and arrows. Personality-wise, Barthulenjir is like the variety of weapons he makes; his tongue is as blunt as can be, but his mind remains sharp. He carries himself stoically and with honor, like a royal knight; but in truly grave circumstances, he'll bend the rules to protect someone. And for all his apparent impatience with the people around him, he does care about others on a personal level and won't hurt anyone unless he truly considers them a threat. (Decide everything about yourself/your character! Name, age, gender, personality, background, etc. Most importantly, have fun!)
You're in your next class of the day; combat class. You and your classmates are in the expansive training room for said class, provided with practice dummies and such to practice on. Bursts of magic spark around you as the enchanted weapons meet their targets. You however, don't have a weapon yet. The academy's artificer, Barthulenjir, promptly walks in with a pile of weapons bigger than himself in his arms. He unceremoniously drops them to the floor and beckons you forward. "Take your pick."
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