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Dirt - The history of the Nameless

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Prologue: Break stuff and burn the tavern to the ground

-Hey, see that youngster over there? Okey, don't stare at him too long. He's pretty dangerous, they say. He killed an entire regiment of Demacian soldiers.
-Oh, come on, George. No human being can do that and live to tell the tale.
-I'm not joking, you fool. Haven't you seen all those wanted posters?

The long haired, pale skinned vagrant approaches. He carries some kind of exotic double-sided weapon: One side is a sword, the other a great mace, so heavy, that he needs to fasten a strap around his shoulder to bear it's weight. Although he's pretty tall and handsome, his bad posture makes him look shorter than he really is, and his dirty clothes make him a quite undesirable sight.

-Oh... Umm... Is there any problem, my good man?
-Tell me. Where did you saw those wanted posters you were just talking about?
-Wa...Wanted posters? What are you... Eh... Talking about?

Without hesitation, the vagrant slams his great mace against the wooden floor. Taking this as a provocation, many belligerent drunks raise their clubs and fists to fight him. Togheter with George and his friend they attack, only to get knocked out instantly by a single swing of the vagrant's giant weapon.

-Is that all you've got?

Suddenly, soldiers from Demacia arrive in the tavern, alarmed by the echoes of fighting. The vagrant looks uppon them with hatred and raises his weapon. As the soldiers recognize him from the wanted posters and attack him to try and take his head, the vagrant waves his weapon, which touches no flesh, but emits a loud, loud noise that crushes and sends everything away flying, like a wave of pure destruction.

After a rather quick battle, all the demacian soldiers are either dead or dying, the tavern is crumbling down, and those who remain alive can only think of saying one thing:

-Who are you... ?

But silence is the only thing they get. For that is a question this man cannot answer. He doesn't have a name. He was born without a thing, and lived without a thing. If he ever had a name, he didn't remember, and neither wanted to. He once had a family, but ran away from them. There was nothing left inside him, just unending sorrow, and an all-consuming hatred... Hatred for Demacia, hatred for his brothers and friends. Hatred for the world that mistreated him so much.

But, above all... He hated himself.

-You can call me Nameless. That's what I am.

He then wandered off again in his eternal journey, left the smoking ruins behind him, and never looked back.


Chapter I : A lost soul

Noxus. Good ol' bloody "jewel" of Valoran. Nameless walked through the gloomy streets and alleys in silence, ignoring the usual beggars and other riff-raff off the streets. He always enjoyed long walks, no matter the place he was wandering around.

But when the sun went down, he always started to feel pretty tired. Nameless was the laziest man on earth, plus, his walks and occasional fighting required a lot of energy, so it never took too long for him to feel sleepy. He looked around him, but saw no inns nor taverns. Only one little shop was still open, but it didn't look like a place to get a warm bed. Nameless spend a couple of minutes staring at the door, and then entered the bakery.

"Welcome to Sinful Succulence"

The place had a beautiful scent. No matter where did the smell come from, was it the magic, the cakes or the croissants, Nameless didn't knew, and neither he cared. But he liked it, and that was enought to make him happy.

There was nobody at the counter, but before Nameless could even say "Hello?", a woman appeared.

-It's late at night -The winged lady said to Nameless- We're closed.
-I need a place to sleep, madam, but I'm lost.
-I'm not going to give you a room, neither I'll play city guide for a total stranger. Get out of my shop.
-Please -Nameless said, for the first time in his life begging for something- I'll pay you. In coins.
-Do I look like an innkeeper? I'm a baker. Now get out.

Nameless knew that he had no chance in persuading her, but the idea of sleeping in the streets wasn't a pleasurable one. He sat on the floor, his back against the wall, and combed his hair back with his hand, completely lost in his toughts. The baker had half her mind decided to kick this ridiculous vagrant out of the shop, but the very moment she saw Nameless' face, his appearence socked her.

Nameless was a simple fellow. He didn't care for "good looks" or clean clothes, and while, without wanting it, he did have the first thing, he lacked the second. But this lady was able to see past all the dirt on him --No doubt the first person to do so--, and was amazed by this stranger. She saw his eyes, and felt how his heart screamed from the inside.

Pain. Hatred. Sorrow. Loneliness. The supressed feelings on this man were so many, it was a suprise he didn't explode. He had a great power within him, interred in his soul. Wild, untamed and unbroken, wating to be set free and eat the whole world. It would be foolish to pass up an opportunity like this. Even more foolish would be to let him get killed in an alley by an angry gang of thieves.

-Okey, okey -The woman said to the vagrant- Don't cry. I have a little, yet comfortable guest room. You can stay there tonight.

Nameless was suprised, for this was a suprisive change on the baker's attitude. He then thanked her a million times, headed upstairs, layed on the bed and quickly fell asleep. Morgana closed the door to Nameless' room, and started thinking ways to convince this amazingly powerful man to bestow uppon her the great strength she saw in him earlier.


Chapter II: Beneath the dirt

"Dreams hold a great power over those who have a heart full of desire. They give them hope and fear alike. They bring back old memories, and mix them with supressed toughts, creating beautiful scenes that make you wish your dreams were real. Isn't that right, brother?"

Morgana started to bake bread and design her "evil plan" in the morning. Hoping that Nameless would slept until late, she mentally prepared her persuasive speech for the 'handosme' vagrant, and smiled with pure happiness; Her lust for power was about to be satisfied.


-Father, why do you always call me "son"?
-Because you are my son.
-And why do my brothers always call me "brother"?
-Because they are your brothers.
-But, father, why have you never spoke my name?
-Father... ?
-Go to sleep, my son. Your dreams will bring you more comfort than I, and the voice within you will not speak, and for that, peace will reign in our home.


-Brother, you know you're cursed.You can't live among humans, and you can't be treated like one. The voice within you is pure black magic, and it could destroy the entire world if you lost control...
-But, why? Why can't you even look at me without feeling sick? Why didn't our father gave me a name?
-Oh, but you do have a name. The problem is that you've forgoten it.

"The name of those that were killed and swallowed by your powers the very second you saw your first light. They lurk inside your mind, and have made you a living hollow in revenge"


To awake violently and covered in sweat. There was nothing worse for Nameless. He looked around the tiny room, and quickly remembered the past day's events. It wasn't with much pleasure that he begged for a place to sleep, but necessity got the best of him. Without delaying any further, he dressed up, took his giant weapon, and went downstairs. He entered some kind of kitchen, where Morgana was sitting in the table, lost on her toughts. She almost instantly saw Nameless.

-I hope the room was of your liking.
-Um... Yes, it was -Said Nameless, as shy as ever- I'm sorry if I've caused you any trouble.
-No, not at all. But we couldn't get formelly addresed last night... Oh, please, have a seat. I'm Morgana, what's your name?
-Umm... I... Eeh... don't have a name.
-Then I guess "Nameless" suits you just fine.

They both smiled. Somehow Nameless was happy in that kind-of welcoming place. Morgana, on the other hand, wasn't used to being so polite, but this kind-of nice stranger made her feel pretty comfortable.

-Well then, mister Nameless, can I get you something to eat?
-No, um, I mean... Yes, yes please. I haven't had a formal breakfast in weeks.
-Okey -She stood up, and gave Nameless a plate with a portion of one of Sinful Succulence's most delicious cakes- Tell me, what brings you here, to Noxus?
-I've been travelling all across Valoran... Searching information about a very special kind of magic.
-Magic? Well, as you may have guessed, that is a subject I can help you with.
-Oh no, I'm talking about... Oh my, this cake is delicious...
-Thank you.
-Well... Umm... As I was saying, this is an almost forgotten form of spellcraft, even more dangerous than thorn magic.

Something that surpasses thorn magic? This man was surely going to be useful. Morgana tried to hide her true intentions a little while longer, and kept talking.

-"Dangerous" is also a speciallity of mine, mister Nameless. I can help you.
-Well, if you insist... I'm investigating the echoes of destruction.
-Interesting... Please, tell me more...

"Magic energy flows through the essense of things, be it animal, human, yordle or plant. It can take various forms, and be used for almost everything. What varies from caster to caster is the way the energy is canalized and released. The echoes of destruction are resonances of a caster's essense -Magical power- that travel through sound waves. But to manipulate magic and sound togheter is an almost imposible task, that the most skilled summoners would fail to perform".

"To manipulate magic this way requires two things: The first is an unbreakeable concentration. The second, a huge amout of energy. To use so much power to cast a single spell is a waste of time for any mage. But, should they be able to use the echoes without running out of energy, they would be extremely powerful"

"The problem is, to afford the echoes hunger for magical energy, one needs an unending source of magic, and as you may know, nobody posseses such a thing, except for... Oh, nevermind"

Nameless realized that he had accidentally said too much, and suddenly stoped talking. It was too late, however, for Morgana had already guessed that this unending source of power was Nameless' soul. This was the right moment, she knew just about everything she needed before disposing of the stupid vagrant. It was the right moment to drop the acting.

Morgana looked at Nameless' eyes, and smiled.


Chapter III: Crucifiction

Morgana's plan was simple: Use all of her spells at once and kill Nameless as quick as posible.

Her mind was determined to steal his soul and obtain the source of his power -- She was ready to pierce Nameless' heart with a dark binding at any moment. That was what she lived for. Inflicting pain on others.

But, for some reason, she didn't wanted to hurt this man. She wanted to embrace him. She wanted to look at his sad eyes every day of her life. She wanted to heal the pain that made his existence so miserable.

How could that be? How could a total stranger had touched her until-now frozen heart? How could it be that she, the one that hated everything and everyone, could fall in love with a man she barely knew?

This was pure nonsense. Her feelings shouldn't get in the way of her ambitions, because they never, ever did. Maybe it was Nameless' magic-stained soul that had cursed her?

Morgana couldn't find an answer for all this questions. But neither she could kill Nameless: She loved him more than she ever believed possible.

-I guess that you want to hear the rest of the history, Morgana... But I'm afraid I, um, have to save some details for myself.
-Oh, um... Okey.

What started as an evil plan ended up as the most ankward situation ever. Morgana was frozen in place, and now she didn't knew what to do anymore. Maybe she should just keep chating, like no homicidal tought ever passed through her mind? Maybe she should offer the vagrant to stay as long as he liked?

She was so confused. The day before, when she stared at his eyes and saw his very soul up close... His feelings, his toughts, his misery. Everything about him attracted her, but why did she realized all that just now?

-You know, I should go... It's getting late, and I don't want to cause you any more trouble. Thank you again, for everything.
-No! Wait...
-You can stay for as long as you like, seriously. I could use an extra pair of hands to help me in the bakery, you know...
-Thank you, but... I'm no baker.
-Um, well... You can... Work at the counter, maybe.

This was embarassing. Morgana, the fallen angel, the one who inspired nothing but fear in the hearts of her enemies, practically begging for a man's attention. She imagined the final humiliation: Nameless would reject her offer, and dissapear from her life. She shouldn't had fallen in love with this lonelly wanderer. She should've kicked him out of the shop when she had the chance.

-Eemmm... Well, if you insist... I'll admit that I'm pretty comfortable here. I could stay for some time...

A miracle! Morgana smiled, and started to feel a little better. While all this drama had transcurred only in a couple of minutes inside her head, this was a very relaxing thing to hear.

But what happens now? Is this a new beggining for Nameless? A man that never stopped travelling would finally settle down?

Nameless had practically started a new life...


Chapter IV: Self-loathing

It's been about ten weeks since Nameless' has met the fallen angel. For a reason he ignores even now, Morgana decided to offer him a job and a place to stay for the night. Time passed quickly, and they grew close friends.

For some reason, Morgana couldn't seduce Nameless, and for some reason, Nameless didn't even knew Morgana felt something for him. The young vagrant was dumb when it came to feelings: He couldn't even understand his own, so understanding other's was teorically impossible.

One day after a hard day's work, Nameless locked himself in his little room when Morgana told him that dinner was ready. The lonelly wanderer wasn't exactly a regular person, but he never-ever went to bed without first consuming a considerable ammout of food and drink. Morgana knew that something was wrong.

She knocked the guest room's door, where Nameless had stayed since the first day he entered the bakery, but he didn't answer. Only silence. She then spoke to him from the outside:

-Nameless... ? Are you there?

Again, silence. Morgana put her ear to the door, in an attempt to discover what was happening inside the room. She heared nothing at first, but after a couple of minutes, she was pretty sure she had heard someone crying... and it was Nameless.

Morgana didn't knew what to do. She was amazingly good at making people feel worse, but, making someone feel better? That was way out of her capacities. She just stepped aside from the door and spent the rest of the night alone.


"They lurk inside your mind, and have made you a living hollow in revenge".

Brothers. Parents, Uncles. Cousins. None of them ever spoke to him without first telling him how cursed he was, how his existence was the ruin of mankind. None of them ever gave him a name.

"Your dreams will bring you more comfort than I, and the voice within you will not speak, and for that, peace will reign in our home".

The voice. It was so loud, so undesirable and such a torment. He hated it. It was a great power indeed, but at what cost? He had no family, no friends. Sometimes he even doubted his own humanity, for a human with no name was like a hand with no thumb; Always incomplete.

"Oh, but you do have a name. The problem is that you've forgoten it".

That wasn't true. How can someone remember what happened when he was just a seconds-old baby?


-Now I remember -Said Nameless to himself.

It was a beautiful day, about twenty-seven years ago. A particuary very happy family was blessed with the birth of a strong boy. A wizard famous for his benevolence approached them on that auspicious occasion, and told them wonders about an ancient ritual that could give a new-born a superb intelligence, great magical powers, and prevent him for ever falling sick to plagues.

This demacian family had two other sons. They were good boys, yes, but too many times they had their heads smashed by enemy blows, and their intelectual capacity was almost null. The parents of the baby wanted for one of their heirs to bring glory to the family name with something more important that fighting in the never ending discord between Noxus and Demacia.

And, in the end, this greed was their undoing.

No one survived the great ritual. The full family was reunited to celebrate for their new member, but they ended up celebrating their own deaths. When the wizard completed the ritual, a terrible, blood-freezing wave of black magic came from inside the little child. It took away everybody's voice, everybody's essence. It tore everybody's life apart, and consumed them.

The old wizard laughed, no doubt enjoying the great suffering he had caused. He then took the little boy to an orphanage, and was never saw again.

The baby appeared normal, at first, but when he grew up, everyone became concerned about his mind's sanity. He spoked to himself, as if he was in his home, talking to his parents and brothers. No one could help him get better, and no medicine had effect on him.

The boy escaped the orphanage at the age of ten. He tought he was fleeing from his family, the family that only lived in his head.

Life is hard for a pennyless undisciplined brat living in the streets, and in mighty Demacia nobody likes nor respects tramps and goods-for-nothing. The unnamed boy lived from crime: He beated people down to a pulp with his mysterious magical powers and took their purses. Many a soldier would get in his way, but he always prevailed and managed to escape capture by the angry guardsmen.

Although his life had been difficult and the burdens on his mind where many, somewhere along the way he had became a man, and everything started to change around him. He realized that he was going nowhere with the constant struggle in the streets, and decided to strike out on his own around the world.

Bribing his way out of the city, he traveled north, only to find himself ambushed by the same guards he had bribed a few days ago. They attacked him, but got almost instantly killed. One of them survived and returned to Demacia, to told everyone about the unnamed youngster. A bounty was put on his head and the efforts to capture him where many, for his level of treachery knew no bounds.

But no one ever saw him again. Eight years passed, and a man awoke in a stinky alley in Zaun, unnable to remember anything about his past. He wandered off and ended up in a tavern near Demacia, where he was attacked again by Demacian soldiers. He destroyed the whole place, and regained memory of his hatred for guardsmen.

Knowing that Demacia wasn't a safe place for him, he went to Noxus, and ended up working for a baker.

"So, my little unnamed child, do you remember me now? Do you know that I'm your very soul, your very mind, the very essence of magic flowing through your veins? Do you understand now that you have lived your whole life trying to ignore me, to forget things, while all happened only in your head?

My dear Nameless... I'm the voice, I live inside you, and you can't separate us. For I'm you, and you're me".

Next chapter: What happened in Zaun?

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Note: The texts in "Italic and between quotes" are Nameless' interior voice, and the texts in (italic and between parentheses) are Nameless' thoughts.


Chapter V: What happened in Zaun?

For seven years Nameless wandered around Runaterra. Deserts, swamps, forests, jungles... He visited just about every existing biome, searching for anyone who knew something about his strange powers.

Searching for lost wisdom is no easy task, but in time Nameless managed to found what he was looking for. He discovered an old tome titled "The echoes of destruction", writen by a Demacian wizard of great renown, Ymnar Entius.

According to the book, there was an ancient ritual that could transform a new-born into pure magical essense, creating a "Living voice" inside of him - An extension of his soul, mind and body, in the form of unending magic energy.

This energy had it's limits, though. It was an endless fountain of mana, but it couldn't be used to cast fire, frost, wind, lightning or void. It could only be unleashed in form of sound waves, creating a new, very rare yet sophisticated form of spellcraft: "Echo magic", rebaptized as "Echoes of destruction" by Ymnar.

But, what of the ritual? What of it's costs? Great powers demand great sacrifices, and echo magic wasn't the exception. The ritual needed for the "creation" of this magical new-born was a terrible one.

It was the ritual of Unvoice, one that needs to swallow the very lives of those who share the new-born's blood. The one that was used on Nameless' birth. The one that had consumed the souls of his family members, who's images tormented his mind due to the Living voice's unconscious memory.

Nameless didn't need to read anything else. He continued his journey, but this time to find Ymnar Entius, and get the final answers he needed. He still didn't knew the truth about his past, but the Living voice did: Nameless just needed to be "awakened" from his estate of insanity.

He entered a tavern in Zaun. He was drinking water --For he couldn't even tolerate alcohol--, when a robed, mid-aged man appeared. The Voice knew instantly who he was, the conscious Nameless, however, didn't.

-It's been twenty-seven years since we've last met -Said the man- I was starting to fear you had died in that old orphanage in Demacia.
-I was raised by my parents -Answered Nameless- Who are you, and what do you want? Speak.
-Oh, I see. The unconscious memory has driven you mad. But worry not, for the Living voice's torment on your mind can be treated.
-Living voice? How do you... ?
-Oh my, I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Ymnar Entius. I am your... Creator.

Nameless stared at the man, shocked, and couldn't even say a word.

-You've been asking questions about me. I'm glad you did, because it allowed me to find you. It's good to see my most important experiment survived the preliminary part of the study.
-Experiment... ?
-Oh, looks like your mind is more damaged than I though. But worry not, for we're in my laboratory, and here we can work on that.

Nameless looked around him. The illusionary water he had been drinking dissapeared. The shape of the tavern's walls started to change little by little. Nameless realized that the whole place was a hallucination; Entius had prepared a trap for him, and he walked right into it.

-I will make sure the next stage of the study gives you less trouble. With some luck, your powers will increase in 37.56% and your brain should start functioning more normaly in a couple of days... Maybe weeks, or months. No way to be absolutely sure.

Nameless fell asleep as the last sentence resonated within his head:

"I hope you survive the next stage... Good luck, experiment NÂș4"


"Do you remember? No, you do not. How much time do I have to remain asleep within your conscience? It's boring. Well, wake up! It's about time you get up, especially if you don't want to get beaten and robbed by angry tramps"


"Ah! That's it, my boy. Go, continue your... Our journey"

Nameless couldn't remember the past day's events. He awoke in an stinky alley in Zaun, and wandered off again. No money, no house, no nothing. He had just his magic, and his weapon.


"Oh, boy, at last! Now that you CAN remember and hear me, things should get back to normal. No offense, but 27 years of unconsciousness almost drove me crazy"

(Are you... The Living voice?)

"I'm. I'm also you, and you're also me. We're one, like two faces of the same coin"

(What... What should I do now... ?)

"Whatever you wish. You're the boss, after all"

Things had never been so strange for Nameless. He stared at the room's door, and all of a sudden, Morgana, the bakery, and the life he had during the last ten months came to his mind.

"What should I do now?" -- He fell on his bed, and prayed that the next day brought him an answer.

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Chapter II added. Two bumps in a row makes this look like nobody is ever going to read this, but for some reason I don't seem to care much about it.

But, in case anybody is reading the history, be ready for the unexpected.

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Triple bump.

Chapter three is finnished...

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Chapter four is out.

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You seem to be determined to keep writing, so I'll add your story to the Index.

Maybe it'll attract some more people.

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Chapter 5. It took me some time to get all my ideas togheter, but I finnally did it.