Tubal-Cain

"The weapons forged by my very hands do not bear names to exude how 'illustrious' in nature they are, I leave such a thing to petty craftsman. The weapons that lay upon the walls of my abode do not bear names, they bear ambitions, for they long the day their metallic flesh greet man's soft tissue."

Summary
Tubal-Cain ( תובל קין, Tūḇal Qayin) is a black smith.

''The world has grown cold since my conception, there is no need for a masterful artisan in these times, only faint memories of a forgotten era light the furnace of my abode. In the epoch of existence, warriors of weak will stepped forth and demanded arms to impose their superficial power unto others, while others of rigid mind and ignorant thought built their own and inevitably crafted their own demise; my work was mere delight in the eyes of the blind, for they did not see the purpose of what I had built. ''

''The flame in my forge grows ever dimmer with every eternity passing, I stagnate and decay spiritually as the consistent harmonious beat of my hammer blessing the anvil with it's impactful presence lessens until ceasing to be. The inferno that engulfed the entirety of my entity is nothing more then a fading candle, waiting to be extinguished and assimilated into the great beyond that lay out of all men's reach, waiting, begging to be touched. Like the weapons I constructed, I was given name, then soon neglected.''

--

''Why was I awakened? Why is all creation in shambles? Sleepless eons and the promise of a sibling lost in time's grasps, it is time for me to be my brother's keeper, for his word is as feeble as grain and he clearly is having issues with the mortals in the realm he is visiting. Brittle are my hands, for they have not gripped the handle of a molten halberd transfigured into an armament worthy of being bestowed upon the mantel of my dwelling. ''

From the calamity that has risen from my brother's oblivity, war is on the horizon and few smiths of grand skill lay before the participants; I step forth among these artisans of steel and iron and proclaim myself the greatest among them, for my skill is the greatest among them and my ambition, is the greatest among them.

Appearance
Tubal-Cain bears the visage of a somewhat anthropomorphic animal, akin to that of his brother, Vaastavikata but is cloaked in air of shade and maroon mist masking him as a truly beastly looking individual. He holds grandiose horns blackened and twisted to a malignant, malevolent appearance, granting passage for many to look upon the blacksmith as a demon, rather then ram in nature. His body is heaped with incredible mounds of muscle and bulk, from the various trials and tribulations he endured to gain the ingredients for various arms he has crafted over multiple  eternums in his life time.

Atop his frame laid bear a rugged, ashened, stained apron blemished with the Mark of Cain, like a proud sigil carrying the crimson tale of the first fratricide, such is typical of the man who bears the name 'He Who Spices The Craft of Cain'. Adorning the slim roads of the apron are textiles of gold for all who be sight will be granted the power to gaze upon the faint glow of the yellow wool. Beneath such needless cloth, is the Celestial and near incomprehensible physique of the first blacksmith, with the entirety of his figure being composed of numerous galactic bodies enclosed within the trenches of his form, primarily working on the fundamentals of impossible space making such an oddity residing deep within him a possibility.

The personal brush of the iron forger, is polished and sanitized to a glistening bronze shade, such a tool of magnificence is used on the canvas of a weapon, lathering on it's figure and purpose for all to gaze upon it's wondrous birth. Engraved, deep in the iron flesh of the items he wields are symbols and sigils to grace the eye with a multitude of Christian iconography that has been consigned to oblivion, with the few truly devout capable of recalling forth such imagery from the recesses of the mind. Blunt in nature, it blesses all manner of weapon to bear unique thought and need with every greeting of each other's iron tissue.

Lay in the hands of Tubal, a handle birthed and molded from the spindly branch of the Tree of Life that claims home beneath the cheek of the hammer's dome, ever glistening an immense array of exotic shades never claimed by nature or mortal sight, and for all who dare tempt fate to witness the infinitely transmorphing rainbow will bear the curse of Bartimaeus.

Personality
Bitter are the thoughts of the blacksmith that lay home in the stars beyond the realm of man, for his time has long been engraved in reality's flesh; but no matter the intensity of fate's pleas, the iron artisan will remain stagnant in motion, for fate will be forebearing of Tubal, for fate will articulate in his motion. Eternities may give rest to forgotten ways, but the primus of smiths will remain ever constant, rigid, and dauntless; though brothers share blood and bone, they do not share thought and life, for such Tubal relies on his own ichor and os, for he bears knowledge that trust is a fickle maiden.

Personal Statistics
Origin: SIEGE

Name: Tubal-Cain

Classification: Blacksmith

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Gender: Male

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Powers and Abilities: Superhuman Physical Characteristics

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Lifting Strength: Unknown

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Stamina: Limitless

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