3. Makeo the Faceless

Makeo the Faceless


  • your characters full name: Makeo the Faceless
    your Narfell account name: He_who_lives_a_thousand_lives
    C-token holder: Yes
    Other character: Marshal

    Time, Logic and Steel. These are the ideals that Makeo most employs in his daily life and attitude. He is devoted to Shaundakul with every fiber of his being, but his view is extremely different from most of the Wind gods followers. Many would view Makeo as a Gondian, or some other god related to crafting, but it is in how his life connects to Shaundakul that truly makes Makeo a believer. The following is a brief history of the Travels of the Faceless one, and how he has come to arrive in Narfell.

    The year has long since been forgotten, those many years past, that Makeo was born into the world. At a young age he had a talent for understanding complex problems, and seeing past the emotion that usually accompanies them. Things like Math, engineering and science were almost natural talents for him, and his ability to remember details aided him greatly. His father, who's name has been lost to history, (remembered by Makeo as nothing more then Zorim) was a nothing more then a simple blacksmith. He owned a small forge and anvil, and was content to make horse shoes and other tools for the people of the community. Makeo's mother died in childbirth and she too has long been forgotten. Makeo spent most of his youth working as his fathers aid, learning to pry metal and turn it into various things. His intelligence allowed him to make minor modifications that in most cases proved to be beneficial. It wasn't until his 10th birthday that his father passed away from a plague that had ravaged the countryside. The loss of his father seemed to Makeo the only distinguishing thing in his childhood. Makeo took up the role of blacksmith, continuing to produce goods for the local villagers until he was eventually hedged out by the older and far more experienced men of his town. Makeo was given an offer of wealth, in order to give up his fathers unproductive shop, and something inside him told him to take the offer and hit the road. Little did Makeo know, but shortly after he received the money for his fathers shop, the men had planned to rob him of it. Had Makeo not listened to this feeling, he would have never escaped with his life. But he did listen, and he packed what he could carry and left town.

    Upon the road out of town, Makeo stumbled over a fallen branch and fell into a hole. Dusting off a few scraps, Makeo climbed back out of the hole and realized he was no longer anywhere near his hometown. A road lay before him in two directions, one led into a dark and sinister looking forest, and the other led deep into the mountains of fire. He chose the mountains of fire, and began off down the road….

    Makeo met many people in his travels to the mountains. A small fortress lay at the bottom of the foothills into the mountains, and a village of roughly 100 people had settled in the area. Makeo was questioned about where he came from, and how one so young could be so far from home alone. Makeo would reply "I am from another place, my home is within me" as he truly had no idea where he was, or how he could ever get back. This mattered little to him though, he was confident that this road could show him things he could have only dreamed of back in his hometown. He was right, in this small village the heat from the mountains formed fissures in the ground. The local smiths had found a way to harness the power and the heat from these fissures to fuel their own forges. This innovative tactic at keeping forges lit interested the young Makeo, so he asked one of the local smiths if he would be permitted to study it, and learn from the smith how it really worked. He was denied, the Smith didn't have time to teach a new apprentice, and his house was already overflowing with additional guests. This saddened Makeo, but he understood the logic behind the man's words. Using a small portion of his gold, he paid for a room at the inn. Daily he would travel down to the fissures and watch the men work from afar. He would see how they manipulated the steel devices, and write down notes as to their intricate workings. After several weeks of study, Makeo had decided he had learned all he could from the town and headed off down the road deeper into the mountains.

    Makeo as logical and smart as he was, was still a child and his lack of understanding got the better of him. These mountains were infested with orcs and other monstrous creatures. They happened upon him in his sleep one night and took him hostage. Makeo was terrified, and blacked out several times. They spoke a language that was foreign to him, he could not understand it, but he could see he was being dragged further into the mountains. The orcs of this clan were of a superstitious nature, and their shaman had demanded the boy be sacrificed into the pit of fire. (the mouth of a volcano) This was definitely a most tragic end for the young boy, this is the hand that fate had dealt him. Makeo knew nothing of the gods, or their ways, so he prayed, he prayed that the wind carry him far away from here, to a place where he would be safe from harm, to a place that he could learn, to a place where his life would not end. Makeo finished his prayer just as his body crashed into the lava. His body burned, his skin blackened and his final scream of pain ended as blackness closed in upon him.

    Gods love to play cruel games, or maybe it is that they just don't understand things the way humans do. Whatever it was Makeo awoke to feel the cool breeze of the wind upon his body. It hurt. Every inch of his body was in pain, and he could not open his eyes. He tried to scream but his mouth would not open. What had happened to him he wondered. He should be dead, but why did it hurt so much? Then he felt a soft hand place something cold upon his forehead....he passed out from the pain.

    Many months passed and Makeo had barely recovered. The priests of the Temple of Auir had done all they could to treat the boys wounds and address his injuries as best they could.... many more months passed...

    In and out of a coma the young by would wake only to feel such immense pain that he would pass into unconsciousness again. His thoughts became joined with his subconscious and he began to grow in a world of dreams. In his dreams he learned that he had been lucky to survive, that as his last moments of life passed before him, he had passed through a portal in the mouth of the volcano and landed in the temple courtyard smoking. Was this a dream or was it just his ears hearing the discussions in the room around him.

    After about 10 months Makeo finally awoke and the pain was no more, his body had deadened the nerves in his skin, even a touch felt distant to him, and he felt void of feeling and emotion. He tried to sit up and realized he had been strapped down to the bed. He tried to speak and the sound that came out shocked him. At first it was inaudible and jumbled, so he tried again and realized his voice had been damaged badly in the fire. He felt the same hand upon his head, it had a calming feeling to it. A female's voice spoke softly "It's alright my child, you are alive, but you must understand, you are not ready to wake just yet...sleep" and Makeo did just that.

    Several years passed, he did not wake from his dreams, his dreams were full of vivid details, he traveled through countless terrains, experienced huge cities and thick forests. Adventure surrounded him at every turn, and through his logic he defeated all foes. Many more years past...

    Nobody is certain just how long had passed since Makeo first arrived at the Temple, but when Makeo awoke he lay still upon the bed strapped in. He attempted to sit up and his body ached, but the straps broke easily. He attempted to open his eyes and the darkness that surrounded him quickly filled his mind. What had happened, where was he? Who was he? His memories gone, only brief images filed away deep within his mind. He tried to move his legs and after some trouble managed to get them onto the floor. Standing took several hours, though he was confident that he needed to walk to find out where he was. He couldn't see anything, the darkness had surrounded him and there was no light by which to see, his feet still barely working stumbled over something laying on the ground next to the bed and he tripped and fell. What shocked Makeo is when his face hit the floor it sounded like Metal on stone. He rolled over to his back and brought his hands up to his face, and realized that he was wearing a strangely shaped metal mask. He tried to remove it and the pain was to much, he screamed out in his inaudible voice and quickly moved his hands away from the mask. He lay there pondering what was going on, who was he, why was he wearing a mask, what had he tripped over and many other questions quickly filled his head.

    Crack! Thud! Smack! came the noise. Again and again the sound of metal hitting stone errupted in his head. Over and over he could hear the sounds ringing. Then finally came a huge crashing sound, but it wasn't from within his head it was coming from somewhere else. Light fluttered in through the newly smashed whole in the ceiling. Light bounced in through the hole and lit up the room. Makeo could see the light shine over his bed, he could see the leather straps that held him had almost all but decayed completely. He looked over and next to him he could see the skeletal remains of a woman long since dead. Where was he and what was going on, who was the dead lady? Could it have been the woman whose voice he had heard in his dreams?

    Rubble dropped into the room, again and again the smashing sound continued, until he began to hear grunts and groaning coming from above the hole. Finally a small figure jumped down through the whole and landed with a loud thud and a grumble. The creature spoke in a language that Makeo could not understand. It waved it's hands about furiously and Makeo just stared at him in disbelief. Makeo had never seen a dwarf before, and the creature seemed odd and homely. Then 2 more dwarves lowered themselves heavily into the room. They began to search the room, locating various things from around the room and quickly stuffing them into packs with ropes tied to them. Makeo didn't move, but he could hear the voices of more of these strange creatures still above the hole, and chose to remain silent as the dwarves pulled up bag, after bag of things from the room. One dwarf came over and stood next to the dead woman's corpse, he said something in a soft voice that sounded to Makeo like a prayer, but he could not understand. The dwarf turned and looked down at the body of Makeo and started to examine him. Makeo felt nervous, he wondered what the dwarf was doing but he was to scared to move. The dwarf tied a rope to his feet and with a quick shout, Makeo was lifted out of the room. He screamed his inaudible scream and to the surprise of all the dwarves it sounded like gas escaping a vent.

    Immediately the dwarves where on him, inspecting him in great detail and realized that young man was still alive. They asked him tones of questions in various languages and Makeo just shrugged. He was brought before an elderly dwarf, even by dwarven standards and many many more languages were used to try to figure out who or what Makeo was. After many reward-less questions the dwarves brought Makeo before a Mirror. For the first time Makeo could see what had happened to him and flashes of memory raced through his head as he remembered being thrown in the lava. He remembered the pain of the lava as the hot minerals fused and melted his flesh. But he was just a boy then, a man now stood before him reflected in the mirror. How long had he been sleeping, how long had he been dead he thought...

    The doors busted open and a group of armed dwarves rushed into the room followed by the most interesting little man in vibrant colors. The man walked with the air of royalty, although he was obviously not a dwarf. (a gnome) Makeo had never seen such a show of authority before, let alone from one so small, he simply turned to face the creature and bowed slightly with his head. The gnome smiled and pulled out a knife, then gave orders to the guards who quickly surrounded Makeo. Like lightning they grabbed Makeo and forced his hand towards the Gnome. The Gnome sliced Makeo finger only slighlty, and squeezed the wound to force out the blood. Makeo did indeed bleed, his blood was a slightly darker then normal red color and the Gnome smiled at him, before bursting out into shouting of orders in language Makeo could not understand. The dwarves rushed about and brought in food and water, and then quickly left the room as a whole and closed the doors behind them, leaving Makeo and the gnome alone in the room...

    For hours the gnome prodded and poked at Makeo, speaking in many many different languages, far more then the initial dwarven interpreter. He spoke several dialects of the same languages over and over as he measured, weighed and tried to identify Makeo. Hours passed, and still no progress verbally, had Makeo been able to make a noise other then gas leaving a vent, it might of went easier. Finally the Gnome appeared to have just had an idea, he rushed out of the room and off down the hall, leaving the stunned dwarves outside the door confused. After about an hour the Gnome returned and closed the door again. He produced a small scroll and began to read off of it. Makeo had seen this before in a dream, the gnome was casting magic. Sure enough when he finished reading the scroll he turned and looked at Makeo and said "Who are you, what are you, and what were you doing in those ruins!" in perfect common as far as Makeo could tell. Makeo replied "Pssshhhh, waaaaassssshhhhhuuuuuupaaaaaa" and shook his head. The gnome replied "So you understand me, you just can't speak. Well by my calculations you are indeed some form of humanoid creature, by all anatomical variables I would say you are or probably were human." as he continued to examine Makeo. Makeo nodded and made a writing motion with his hand. The Gnome smiled wide and pulled out some parchment and some ink and placed it on a table, motioning Makeo to come have a seat. Makeo drew a picture of the volcano and of him being thrown into it. The Gnome examined the picture and began to ask more questions... the two of them went on like this for the rest of the night. The Gnome satisfied with the results of his inspection left and Makeo was left alone in the room. Food and water were brought to him, but it was 2 weeks before anyone came for him, and it was the Gnome again. This time the Gnome had been carrying a small pouch and a box of tools and scrolls. "I'm going to give you the ability to speak" said the Gnome flatly, and after which said "and then I'm going to teach you about the world, to see if we can figure out what happened to you, does that sound fair?" Makeo looked at the Gnome nervously and nodded, as he was nodding he noticed the Gnome had already injected his leg with some sort of chemical and as his head rolled forward he fell asleep in moments.

    Time passed... and the history of the dwarves and the gnomes fell as well into the history books, cultures to be remembered in fairy tales, and Makeo learned what he could from the Gnome teacher, his voice although poorly fixed worked, and his travels continued.

    Makeo traveled from realm to realm, plane to plane and back again, experiencing many different places in his travels over many years. For many years he traveled unknowingly through portals all over the place, but it wasn't until one such trip to a plane of cities that he truly began to understand. It was his prayer, his prayer to the wind had been heard by Shaundakul, and his life, and his travels he owed to the God of Wind, the wind that took him to a place where he could be safe, and could learn, and has done this for him for many years. Portals to Makeo were indeed real, and places of fantastic things lie just beyond each one. Thus Makeo decided to spread the word of the God of Portals to the people he met in his travels, and like the air Makeo travels everywhere he can, but as Shaundakul is chaotic so too is Makeo's time on each plane. What Makeo's purpose is on this world is still yet undefined.

    What will history tell of his time on Toril, will he live to see the next portal, nothing is certain. The wind has blown Makeo into the Narfell region for what reason only the gods know...

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    I hope you enjoyed the read đŸ™‚

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