Giant in the Playground Forums - View Single Post

Private-Prinny · 06-27-2010, 08:37 PM

"Do I have something on my face?" "No, but that's kind of the point..."

(More 2 part madness)

Quote:

Originally Posted by The Faceless

Robert Smith... that name was discarded long ago.

Before The Faceless, there was a boy. A human child, not 11 winters of age. A boy with bright blue eyes. Not the iris, but what is normally the white. The priest called it a blessing, and he could not have been more wrong.

Living on the outskirts of a large town, Robert (Robbie) was constantly tormented by the others. The "normals", they called themselves.

"You think you're better than us?"

"Let's see how 'blessed' you are!"

A litany of taunts, whirling through the mind, throughout the day. Even at home, Robbie was dismissed.

"You'll never amount to anything."

"How do you expect to get a job lazing around!"

He was never taught to read or write, his father dismissing both as "luxuries".

His sole refuge was outside, in the wilderness. Living nearby an elven encampment, Robbie picked up some useful knowledge about the wilderness. This did not particularly help his status with the others, nor at home. ("Knife-ears lover!") Even the elves didn't really accept him, treating him as an infant. Robert did have some talents though, and rapidly picked up what he was taught of the wilds.

The real trouble started when he was 14. A series of escalating "pranks" began. Starting with a knife in his front door through an incomprehensible note, continuing with a group beating, and ending with being stuffed into a sack and wrestled into a cave, unconscious.

Robert awoke groggily. The bruises he could feel covering his body weren't particularly helped by the irregular rock beneath him, nor his lack of clothing. He opened his eyes... and saw nothing. Wherever he was, it was pitch black. "Bastards!" he quietly cursed, then stopped, listening carefully. Hearing nothing but dripping water, he rose to his feet, stumbling slightly in the process. A cautious test to the left, to the right... sharp rocks awaited. Gathering his will, he focused for a minute, then began to cautiously step across the stones. That was about when the tripwire caught him.

Tumbling facefirst onto the jagged mess on the floor, his face was lacerated. Cuts across the forehead, mangled cheekbones, a broken nose, and a slashed upper lip. The yell of pain echoed through the cave, but he still heard no response. Getting to his feet in agony, Robert again focused. Gradually, a shell hardened over his face, dulling the pain. As he opened his eyes, futilely, he was suddenly shocked. He could SEE again. And several feet ahead of him was another tripwire, and a wall. The imagination of his tormenters never ended, it seemed.

Seeing despite the blackness, Robert had little difficult navigating out of the caves, given some time. As he emerged into sunlight, he looked down at his hands... and saw them coated with tiny purple scales. He checked his feet: unscathed. He grinned slightly. Taking a stout branch as protection, he walked back into town, to confront his abductors.

Several terrified boys beaten up later, a few useful items scavenged, and a classical peasant mob formed, complete with pitchforks and torches, and chased him out of town. Robert left gladly. They had paid.

Robert Smith:

Spoiler

Robert left with little more than the clothes on his back. Still, he was able to survive the wilderness almost effortlessly, thanks to what he had gathered from the elves. He did not seek them out. They were too near the town, too close to his past. Instead, he travelled west, further into the wilderness. He hid from towns, passing through them with a mask, if necessary. They might know, recognize the scars on his face, and take him back. And so, he was treated as another bizarre oddity in a world overfull of such.

Over time, and with practice, he began to master his new capabilities. No longer could he merely alter his skin, but his entire form, growing claws, spines, and other weapons.

Eventually in his trek west, Robert encountered a travelling caravan of entertainers. Some might call them a circus, some might call them gypsies. Whatever they were, they offered a home free of judgement, free of the past. Robert took it. He threw himself wholeheartedly into acting, into assuming the face, the being, of another. When they asked his name, he said only, "I have no name".

Nameless

Spoiler

Of course, the idyllic life of an actor and circus freak had to come to an end. At some point in Nameless' 20'th year, the caravan was attacked by Fire Giants, on a trip through the southern mountains. They had no chance. He ran. They all ran. But only he could outrun the giants. Returning, weeping, to the site of the devastation, he found nothing intact but the mask of a hardened warrior. Putting it on, he recognized the power that identity held. He became... Faceless, ever-shifting.

Faceless

Spoiler

He proceeded to exact revenge for the attack. Flying through walls and back, around the giants' cave, he slaughtered them with ease. Unable to find any trace of the caravan that had been his home for so long (he suspected they had been digested), he left, tired and lonely.

Sweetspot: Level 12. Boosted essentia capacity and Phase cloak, improved masks, along with extra wealth for splitting, massively improve offensive options. AC is poor, however, which won't be addressed for a few levels.

Spoiler