The Great Wyrm of Eberron
My name is Finn, as far as you know anyway.
I grew up outside of (big city). I was raised by an older couple, who had enough pity for something like me, they took me in as an infant. They did their best to make me feel “human”. It’s not easy feeling that way when you can change faces as easy as someone changes their trousers. My parents didn’t like it when I imitated others. They wanted me to accept myself for the freak I am. With time I learned that I didn’t have to be myself. I could be anyone else. Someone who is accepted, smiled at, someone who doesn’t scare children like a lycan. Being so close to so many people helped me hone my abilities to blend in. I could carry on for days inside the city walls, changing as much as I liked. It was exhilarating. I started thinking of myself as one of the “pures”. I look like them, talk like them, live like them, but I’m not one of them. I found that out the hard way. It’s tough to blend in when the person you are imitating catches you walking through town…
Let’s just say that it didn’t end well. Thankfully, the same reason I was attacked is the same reason I don’t look like I just lost a fight with a cannon.
Now, my outlook on being one of “them” is a little muddied. I still yearn to be normal, but how do I live with people who will never know who I actually am. There are so many more people like me. People I could be myself with. Those who would treat me as an equal without a fake face on.